University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


MAY231919 


JI.MMIE  HIGGINS 

A  Story 

BY 

UPTON  SINCLAIR 

AUTHOR  OP  "THE  JUNGLE,"  "THE  JOURNAL  OF  ARTHUR  STERLING." 

"KING  COAL,"  "THE  PROFITS  OP  RELIGION," 

ETC. 


1919 
UPTON    SINCLAIR 

PASADENA,  CALIF. 


COPYRIGHT.  1918.  1919, 
BY  UPTON  SINCLAIB 

Copyright  in  Great  Britain  and  dependencies, 

and  in  Europe,  including  the  Scandinavian  countries. 

All  rights  reserved. 


Printed  in  the  V.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  CANDIDATE      ....  1 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  HEARS  A  SPEECH 15 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DEBATES  THE  ISSUE      .     .     .     .     .  24 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  STRIKES  IT  RICH  35 


II 

III 

IV 

V 

VI 

VII 

VIII 

IX 

X 

XI 

XII 

XIII 

XIV 

XV 

XVI 

xvii 

XVIII 

XIX 

XX 

XXI 

XXII 

XXIII 

XXIV 

XXV 

XXVI 

XXVII 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  HELPS  THE  KAISER       .....  45 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  GOES  TO  JAIL .  56 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DALLIES  WITH  CUPID 69 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  His  FOOT  IN  IT 81 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  RETURNS  TO  NATURE 91 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  OWNER 98 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  FACES  THE  WAR       .     .     .     .  ~*.     .  107 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  A  PATRIOT 115 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DODGES  TROUBLE 125 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  ROAD 137 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TURNS  BOLSHEVIK 151 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  TEMPTER 159 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WRESTLES  WITH  THE  TEMPTER     .     .169 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  PLUNGE 176 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  ON  KHAKI 184 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  A  SWIM 193 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  SOCIETY 203 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WORKS  FOR  His  UNCLE 211 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  HUN 220 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  SEES  THE  OTHER  SIDE 235 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER 244 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DISCOVERS  His  SOUL 258 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  VOTES  FOR  DEMOCRACY  .     .  273 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

CHAPTER  I 

JIMMIB  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  CANDIDATE 


TIMMIE,"  said  Lizzie,  "couldn't  we  go  see  the  pictures?" 
**  And  Jimmie  set  down  the  saucer  of  hot  coffee  which  he 
was  in  the  act  of  adjusting  to  his  mouth,  and  stared  at  his 
wife.  He  did  not  say  anything;  in  three  years  and  a  half  as 
a  married  man  he  had  learned  that  one  does  not  always  say 
everything  that  comes  into  one's  mind.  But  he  meditated  on 
the  abysses  that  lie  between  the  masculine  and  feminine  intel- 
lects. That  it  should  be  possible  for  any  one  to  wish  to  see  a 
movie  idol  leaping  into  second-story  windows,  or  being  pulled 
from  beneath  flying  express-trains,  on  this  day  of  destiny,  this 
greatest  crisis  in  history! 

"You  know,  Lizzie/'  he  said,  patiently,  "I've  got  to  help  at 
the  Opera-house." 

"But  you've  got  all  morning!" 

"I  know;  but  if  11  take  all  day/' 

And  Lizzie  fell  silent ;  for  she  too  had  learned  much  in  three 
years  and  a  half  of  married  life.  She  had  learned  that  work- 
ingmen's  wives  seldom  get  all  they  would  like  in  this  world; 
also  that  to  have  a  propagandist  for  a  husband  is  not  the  worst 
fate  that  may  befall.  After  all,  he  might  have  been  giving  his 
time  and  money  to  drink,  or  to  other  women;  he  might  have 
been  dying  of  a  cough,  like  the  man  next  door.  If  one  could 
not  have  a  bit  of  pleasure  on  a  Sunday  afternoon — well,  one 
might  sigh,  but  not  too  loud. 

1 


2  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Jimmie  began  telling  all  the  things  that  had  to  he  done  that 
Sunday  morning  and  afternoon.  They  seemed  to  Lizzie  exactly 
like  the  things  that  were  done  on  other  occasions  before  meet- 
ings. To  be  sure,  this  was  bigger — it  was  in  the  Opera-house, 
and  all  the  stores  had  cards  in  the  windows,  with  a  picture  of 
the  Candidate  who  was  to  be  the  orator  of  the  occasion.  But 
it  was  hard  for  Lizzie  to  understand  the  difference  between  this 
Candidate  and  other  candidates — none  of  whom  ever  got  elected ! 
Lizzie  would  truly  rather  have  stayed  at  home,  for  she  did  not 
understand  English  very  well  when  it  was  shouted  from  a  plat- 
form, and  with  a  lot  of  long  words;  but  she  knew  that  Jimmie 
was  trying  to  educate  her,  and  being  a  woman,  she  was  educated 
to  this  extent — she  knew  the  way  to  hold  onto  her  man. 

Jimmie  had  just  discovered  a  new  solution  of  the  problem 
of  getting  the  babies  to  meetings ;  and  Lizzie  knew  that  he  was 
tremendously  proud  of  this  discovery.  So  long  as  there  had 
been  only  one  baby,  Jimmie  had  carried  it.  When  there  had 
come  a  second,  Lizzie  had  helped.  But  now  there  were  three, 
the  total  weight  of  them  something  over  sixty  pounds;  and  the 
street-car  line  was  some  distance  away,  and  also  it  hurt  Jimmie 
in  his  class-consciousness  to  pay  twenty  cents  to  a  predatory 
corporation.  They  had  tried  the  plan  of  paying  something  to 
a  neighbour  to  stay  with  the  babies ;  but  the  first  they  tried  was 
a  young  girl  who  got  tired  and  went  away,  leaving  the  little 
ones  to  howl  their  heads  off;  and  the  second  was  a  Polish  lady 
whom  they  found  in  a  drunken  stupor  on  their  return. 

But  Jimmie  was  determined  to  go  to  meetings,  and  deter- 
mined that  Lizzie  should  go  along.  It  was  one  of  the  curses 
of  the  system,  he  said,  that  it  deprived  working-class  women  of 
all  chance  for  self-improvement.  So  he  had  paid  a  visit  to  the 
"Industrial  Store,"  a  junk-shop  maintained  by  the  Salvation 
Army,  and  for  fifteen  cents  he  had  obtained  a  marvellous  broad 
baby-carriage  for  twins,  all  finished  in  shiny  black  enamel. 
One  side  of  it  was  busted,  but  Jimmie  had  fixed  that  with  some 
wire,  and  by  careful  packing  had  shown  that  it  was  possible 
to  stow  the  youngsters  in  it — Jimmie  Junior  and  Pete  side  by 
side,  and  the  new  baby  at  the  foot. 

The  one  trouble  was  that  Jimmie  Junior  couldn't  keep  his 
feet  still.  He  could  never  keep  any  part  of  him  still,  the  little 
jack-in-the-box.  Here  he  was  now,  tearing  about  the  kitchen, 
pursuing  the  ever-receding  tail  of  the  newest  addition  to  the 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  CANDIDATE       3 

family,  a  half-starved  cur  who  had  followed  Jimmie  in  from 
the  street,  and  had  been  fed  into  a  semblance  of  reality.  From 
this  treasure  a  bare,  round  tail  hung  out  behind  in  tantalising 
fashion ;  Jimmie  Junior,  always  imagining  he  could  catch  it,  was 
toddling  round  and  round  and  round  the  kitchen-table,  clutch- 
ing out  in  front  of  him,  laughing  so  that  after  a  while  he  sat 
down  from  sheer  exhaustion. 

And  Jimmie  Senior  watched  enraptured.  Say,  but  he  was  a 
buster!  Did  you  ever  see  a  twenty-seven  months  old  kid  that 
could  get  over  the  ground  like  that?  Or  make  a  louder  noise? 
This  last  because  Jimmie  Junior  had  tried  to  take  a  short  cut 
through  the  kitchen  range  and  failed.  Lizzie  swooped  down, 
clasping  him  to  her  broad  bosom,  and  pouring  out  words  of 
comfort  in  Bohemian.  As  Jimmie  Senior  did  not  understand 
any  of  these  words,  he  took  advantage  of  the  confusion  to  get 
his  coat  and  cap  and  hustle  off  to  the  Opera-house,  full  of  fresh 
determination.  For,  you  see,  whenever  a  Socialist  looks  at  his 
son,  or  even  thinks  of  his  son,  he  is  hotter  for  his  job  of  propa- 
gandist. Let  the  world  be  changed  soon,  so  that  the  little  fel- 
lows may  be  spared  those  sufferings  and  humiliations  which  have 
fallen  to  the  lot  of  their  parents ! 


II 

"Comrade  Higgins,  have  you  got  a  hammer?"  It  was 
Comrade  Schneider  who  spoke,  and  he  did  not  take  the  trouble 
to  come  down  from  the  ladder,  where  he  was  holding  up  a 
streamer  of  bunting,  but  waited  comfortably  for  the  hammer  to 
be  fetched  to  him.  And  scarcely  had  the  fetcher  started  to 
climb  before  there  came  the  voice  of  a  woman  from  across  the 
stage:  "Comrade  Higgins,  has  the  Ypsel  banner  come?"  And 
from  the  rear  part  of  the  hall  came  the  rotund  voice  of  fat 
Comrade  Eapinsky :  "Comrade  Higgins,  will  you  bring  up  an 
extra  table  for  the  literature?"  And  from  the  second  tier  box 
Comrade  Mary  Allen  spoke :  "While  you're  downstairs,  Comrade 
Higgins,  would  you  mind  telephoning  and  making  sure  the 
Reception  Committee  knows  about  the  change  in  the  train- 
time?" 

So  it  went ;  and  Jimmie  ran  about  the  big  hall  with  his  face 
red  and  perspiring;  for  this  was  mid-summer,  and  no  breeze 
came  through  the  windows  of  the  Leesville  Opera-house,  and 


4  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

when  you  got  high  up  on  the  walls  to  tie  the  streamers  of  red 
bunting,  you  felt  as  if  you  were  being  baked.  But  the  streamers 
had  to  be  tied,  and  likewise  the  big  red  flag  over  the  stage,  and 
the  banner  of  the  Karl  Marx  Yerein,  and  the  banner  of  the 
Ypsels,  or  Young  People's  Socialist  League  of  Leesville,  and 
the  banner  of  the  Machinists'  Union,  Local  4717,  and  of  the 
Carpenters'  Union,  District  529,  and  of  the  Workers'  Co-opera- 
tive Society.  And  because  Comrade  Higgins  never  questioned 
anybody's  right  to  give  him  orders,  and  always  did  everything 
with  a  cheerful  grin,  people  had  got  into  the  habit  of  regarding 
him  as  the  proper  person  for  tedious  and  disagreeable  tasks. 

He  had  all  the  more  on  his  hands  at  present,  because  the 
members  of  this  usually  efficient  local  were  half -distracted,  like 
a  nest  of  ants  that  have  been  dug  out  with  a  shovel.  The  most 
faithful  ones  showed  a  tendency  to  forget  what  they  were  doing, 
and  to  gather  in  knots  to  talk  about  the  news  which  had  come 
over  the  cables  and  had  been  published  in  that  morning's  paper. 
Jimmie  Higgins  would  have  liked  to  hear  what  the  rest  had 
to  say;  but  somebody  had  to  keep  at  work,  for  the  local  was 
in  the  hole  nearly  three  hundred  dollars  for  to-night's  affair,  and 
it  must  succeed,  even  though  half  the  civilised  world  had  gone 
suddenly  insane.  So  Jimmie  continued  to  climb  step-ladders 
and  tie  bunting. 

When  it  came  to  lunch-time,  and  the  members  of  the  Decora- 
tions Committee  were  going  out,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  one  of 
them  that  the  drayman  who  was  to  bring  the  literature  might 
arrive  while  there  was  nobody  to  receive  it.  So  Comrade  Hig- 
gins was  allowed  to  wait  during  the  lunch  hour.  There  was  a 
plausible  excuse — he  was  on  the  Literature  Committee;  indeed, 
he  was  on  every  committee  where  hard  work  was  involved — the 
committee  to  distribute  leaflets  announcing  the  meeting,  the  com- 
mittee to  interview  the  labour  unions  and  urge  them  to  sell 
tickets,  the  committee  to  take  up  a  collection  at  the  meeting. 
He  was  not  on  those  committees  which  involved  honour  and 
edification,  such  as,  for  example,  the  committee  to  meet  the 
Candidate  at  the  depot  and  escort  him  to  the  Opera-house.  But 
then  it  would  never  have  occurred  to  Jimmie  that  he  had  any 
place  on  such  a  committee ;  for  he  was  just  an  ignorant  fellow, 
a  machinist,  undersized  and  undernourished,  with  bad  teeth  and 
roughened  hands,  and  no  gifts  or  graces  of  any  sort  to  recom- 
mend him;  while  on  the  Reception  Committee  were  a  lawyer 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  CANDIDATE        5 

and  a  prosperous  doctor  and  the  secretary  of  the  Carpet-weavers' 
Union,  all  people  who  wore  good  clothes  and  had  education,  and 
knew  how  to  talk  to  a  Candidate. 

So  Jimmie  waited ;  and  when  the  drayman  came,  he  opened 
up  the  packages  of  books  and  pamphlets  and  laid  them  out  in 
neat  piles  on  the  literature  tables,  and  hung  several  of  the  more 
attractive  ones  on  the  walls  behind  the  tables;  so,  of  course, 
Comrade  Mabel  Smith,  who  was  chairman  of  the  Literature 
Committee,  was  greatly  pleased  when  she  came  back  from  lunch. 
And  then  came  the  members  of  the  German  Liederkranz,  to  re- 
hearse the  programme  they  were  to  give ;  and  Comrade  Higgins 
would  have  liked  first  rate  to  sit  and  listen,  but  somebody  dis- 
covered the  need  of  glue,  and  he  chased  out  to  find  a  drug-store 
that  was  open  on  Sunday. 

Later  on  there  was  a  lull,  and  Jimmie  realised  that  he  was 
hungry.  He  examined  the  contents  of  his  pockets  and  found 
that  he  had  seventeen  cents.  It  was  a  long  way  to  his  home,  so 
he  would  step  around  the  corner  and  have  a  cup  of  coffee  and 
a  couple  of  "sinkers"  at  "Tom's."  He  first  conscientiously 
asked  if  anybody  needed  anything,  and  Comrade  Mabel  Smith 
told  him  to  hurry  back  to  help  her  put  out  the  leaflets  on  the 
seats,  and  Comrade  Meissner  would  need  help  in  arranging  the 
chairs  on  the  stage. 

m 

When  you  went  from  the  Leesville  Opera-house  and  turned 
West  on  Main  Street,  you  passed  Heinz's  Cafe,  which  was  a 
"swell"  eating-place,  and  not  for  Jimmie;  and  then  the  "Bijou 
Nickelodeon,"  with  a  mechanical  piano  in  the  entrance ;  and  the 
"Bon  Marche  Shoe  Store,"  which  was  always  having  a  fire-sale 
or  a  removal  sale  or  a  bankruptcy  clearing-out;  and  then 
Lipsky's  "Picture  Palace,"  with  a  brown  and  yellow  cowboy 
galloping  away  with  a  red  and  yellow  maiden  in  his  arms ;  then 
Harrod's  "Fancy  Grocery"  on  the  corner.  And  in  each  of  these 
places  there  was  a  show-card  in  the  window,  with  a  picture  of 
the  Candidate,  and  the  announcement  that  on  Sunday  evening, 
at  eight  o'clock,  he  would  speak  at  the  Leesville  Opera-house  on 
"War,  the  Reason  and  the  Remedy."  Jimmie  Higgins  looked 
at  the  cards,  and  a  dignified  yet  joyful  pride  stirred  in  his 
bosom;  for  all  of  them  were  there  because  he,  Jimmie,  had 


6  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

interviewed  the  proprietors  and  obtained  their  more  or  less  re- 
luctant consent. 

Jimmie  knew  that  on  this  same  Sunday,  in  cities  all  over 
Germany,  Austria,  Belgium,  France  and  England,  the  workers 
were  gathering  by  millions  and  tens  of  millions,  to  protest 
against  the  red  horror  of  war  being  let  loose  over  their  heads. 
And  in  America  too — a  call  would  go  from  the  new  world  to 
the  old,  that  the  workers  should  rise  and  carry  out  their  pledge 
to  prevent  this  crime  against  mankind.  He,  Jimmie  Higgins, 
had  no  voice  that  anybody  would  heed;  but  he  had  helped  to 
bring  the  people  of  his  city  to  hear  a  man  who  had  a  voice,  and 
who  would  show  the  meaning  of  this  world-crisis  to  the  working- 
people. 

It  was  the  party's  Candidate  for  President.  At  this  time 
only  congressional  elections  were  pending,  but  this  man  had  been 
Candidate  for  President  so  often  that  every  one  thought  of  him 
in  that  role.  You  might  say  that  each  of  his  campaigns  lasted 
four  years;  he  travelled  from  one  end  of  the  land  to  the  other, 
and  counted  by  the  millions  those  who  heard  his  burning,  bit- 
ter message.  It  had  chanced  that  the  day  which  the  War-lords 
and  Money-lords  of  Europe  had  chosen  to  drive  their  slaves  to 
slaughter  was  the  day  on  which  the  Candidate  had  been  scheduled 
to  speak  in  the  Leesville  Opera-house.  No  wonder  the  Socialists 
of  the  little  inland  city  were  stirred ! 

Jimmie  Higgins  turned  into  "Tom's  Buffeteria,"  and  greeted 
the  proprietor,  and  seated  himself  on  a  stool  in  front  of  the 
counter,  and  called  for  coffee,  and  helped  himself  to  "sinkers" — 
which  might  have  been  called  "life-preservers,"  they  were  blown 
so  full  of  air.  He  filled  his  mouth,  at  the  same  time  looking  up 
to  make  sure  that  Tom  had  not  removed  the  card  announcing 
the  meeting;  for  Tom  was  a  Catholic,  and  one  of  the  reasons 
that  Jimmie  went  to  his  place  was  to  involve  him  and  his  patrons 
in  arguments  over  exploitation,  unearned  increment  and  surplus 
value. 

But  before  a  discussion  could  be  started,  it  chanced  that  Jim- 
mie glanced  about.  In  the  back  part  of  the  room  were  four 
little  tables,  covered  with  oil-cloth,  where  "short  orders"  were 
(served;  and  at  one  of  those  tables  a  man  was  seated.  Jimmie 
took  a  glance  at  him,  and  started  so  that  he  almost  spilled  his 
coffee.  Impossible;  and  yet — surely — who  could  mistake  that 
face?  The  face  of  a  mediaeval  churchman,  lean,  ascetic,  but 


JIMMIE  HIGOINS  MEETS  THE  CANDIDATE       7 

with  a  modern  touch  of  kindliness,  and  a  bald  dome  on  top  like 
a  moon  rising  over  the  prairie.  Jimmie  started,  then  stared  at 
the  picture  of  the  Candidate  which  crowned  the  shelf  of  pies. 
He  turned  to  the  man  again;  and  the  man  glanced  up,  and  his 
eyes  met  Jimmie's,  with  their  expression  of  amazement  and  awe. 
The  whole  story  was  there,  not  to  be  misread — especially  by  a 
Candidate  who  travels  about  the  country  making  speeches,  and 
being  recognised  every  hour  or  so  from  his  pictures  which  have 
preceded  him.  A  smile  came  to  his  face,  and  Jimmie  set  down 
the  coffee-cup  from  one  trembling  hand  and  the  "sinker"  from 
the  other,  and  rose  from  his  stool. 


rv 

Jimmie  would  not  have  had  the  courage  to  advance,  save 
for  the  other  man's  smile — a  smile  that  was  weary,  but  candid 
and  welcoming.  "Howdy  do,  Comrade?"  said  the  man.  He 
held  out  his  hand,  and  the  moment  of  this  clasp  was  the  nearest 
to  heaven  that  Jimmie  Higgins  had  ever  known. 

When  he  was  able  to  find  his  voice,  it  was  only  to  exclaim, 
"You  wasn't  due  till  five-forty-two!" 

As  if  the  Candidate  had  not  known  that!  He  explained 
that  he  had  missed  his  sleep  the  night  before,  and  had  come  on 
ahead  so  as  to  snatch  a  bit  during  the  day.  "I  see,"  said 
Jimmie ;  and  then,  "I  knowed  vou  by  your  picture." 

"Yes?"  said  the  other,  patiently. 

And  Jimmie  groped  round  in  his  addled  head  for  something 
really  worth  while.  "You'll  want  to  see  the  Committee?" 

"No,"  said  the  other,  "I  want  to  finish  this  first."  And 
he  took  a  sip  from  a  glass  of  milk,  and  a  bite  out  of  a  sandwich, 
and  chewed. 

So  utterly  rattled  was  Jimmie  he  sat  there  like  a  numb-skull, 
unable  to  find  a  word,  while  the  man  finished  his  repast. 
When  it  was  over,  Jimmie  said  again — he  could  do  no  better — 
"You  want  to  see  the  Committee  ?" 

"No,"  was  the  reply,  "I  want  to  sit  here — and  perhaps  talk 
to  you,  Comrade — Comrade — ?" 

"Higgins,"  said  Jimmie. 

"Comrade  Higgins — that  is,  if  you  have  time." 

"Oh,  sure !"  exclaimed  Jimmie.  "I  got  all  the  time  there  is. 
But  the  Committee " 


8  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

"Never  mind  the  Committee,  Comrade.  Do  you  know  how 
many  Committees  I  have  met  on  this  trip  ?" 

Jimmie  did  not  know;  nor  did  he  have  the  courage  to  ask. 

"Probably  you  never  thought  how  it  is  to  be  a  Candidate," 
continued  the  other.  "You  go  from  place  to  place,  and  make 
the  same  speech  every  night,  and  it  seems  as  if  you  slept  in  the 
same  hotel  every  night,  and  almost  as  if  you  met  the  same  Com- 
mittee. But  you  have  to  remember  that  your  speech  is  new  to 
each  audience,  and  you  have  to  make  it  as  if  you  had  never  made 
it  before;  also  you  have  to  remember  that  the  Committee  is 
made  up  of  devoted  comrades  who  are  giving  everything  for  the 
cause,  so  you  don't  tell  them  that  they  are  just  like  every  other 
committee,  or  that  you  are  tired  to  death,  or  maybe  have  a 
headache " 

Jimmie  sat,  gazing  in  awe-stricken  silence.  Not  being  a 
man  of  reading,  he  had  never  heard  of  "the  head  that  wears 
a  crown."  This  was  his  first  glimpse  into  the  soul  of  greatness. 

The  Candidate  went  on:  "And  then,  too,  Comrade,  there's 
the  news  from  Europe.  I  want  a  little  time.  I  can't  bring 
myself  to  face  it !" 

His  voice  had  grown  sombre,  and  to  Jimmie,  gazing  at  him, 
it  seemed  that  all  the  sorrows  of  the  world  were  in  his  tired 
grey  eyes.  "Perhaps  I'd  better  go,"  said  Jimmie. 

"No,  no/'  replied  the  other,  with  quick  self-recovery.  He 
looked  and  saw  that  Jimmie  had  forgotten  his  meal.  "Bring 
your  things  over  here,"  he  said;  and  the  other  fetched  his  cup 
and  saucer  and  plate,  and  gulped  the  rest  of  his  "sinkers"  under 
the  Candidate's  eyes. 

"I  oughtn't  to  talk,"  said  the  latter.  "You  see  how  hoarse 
I  am.  But  you  talk.  Tell  me  about  the  local,  and  how  things 
are  going  here." 

So  Jimmie  summoned  his  courage.  It  was  the  one  thing  he 
could  really  talk  about,  the  thing  of  which  his  mind  and  soul 
were  full.  Leesville  was  a  typical  small  manufacturing  city, 
with  a  glass  bottle  works,  a  brewery,  a  carpet-factory,  and  the 
big  Empire  Machine  Shops,  at  which  Jimmie  himself  spent 
sixty-three  hours  of  his  life  each  week.  The  workers  were  asleep, 
of  course;  but  still,  you  couldn't  complain,  the  movement  was 
growing.  The  local  boasted  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  members, 
though  of  course  only  about  thirty  of  them  could  be  counted  on 
for  real  work.  That  was  the  case  everywhere,  the  Candidate  put 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  CANDIDATE       9 

jn — ft  was  always  a  few  who  made  the  sacrifice  and  kept  things 
alive. 

Then  Jimmie  went  on  to  tell  about  to-night's  meeting,  the 
preparations  they  had  made,  the  troubles  they  had  had.  The 
police  had  suddenly  decided  to  enforce  the  law  against  deliver- 
ing circulars  from  house  to  house;  though  they  allowed  Isaac's 
"Emporium"  to  use  this  method  of  announcement.  The  Lees- 
Tille  "Herald"  and  "Evening  Courier"  were  enthusiastic  for 
the  police  action;  if  you  couldn't  give  out  circulars,  obviously 
you  would  have  to  advertise  in  these  papers.  The  Candidate 
smiled — he  knew  about  American  police  officials,  and  also  about 
American  journalism. 

Jimmie  had  been  laid  off  for  a  couple  of  days  at  the  shop, 
and  he  told  how  he  had  put  this  time  to  good  use,  getting  an- 
nouncements of  the  meeting  into  the  stores-.  There  was  an 
old  Scotchman  in  a  real  estate  office  just  across  the  way.  "Git 
oot !"  he  said.  "So  I  thought  I'd  better  git  oot !"  said  Jimmie. 
And  then,  taking  his  life  into  his  hands,  he  had  gone  into  the 
First  National  Bank.  There  was  a  gentleman  walking  across 
the  floor,  and  Jimmie  went  up  to  him  and  held  out  one  of  the 
placards  with  the  picture  of  the  Candidate.  "Would  you  be 
so  good  as  to  put  this  in  your  window?"  he  inquired;  and  the 
other  looked  at  it  coldly.  Then  he  smiled — he  was  a  good  sport, 
apparently.  "I  don't  think  my  customers  would  patronise  your 
business,"  he  said ;  but  Jimmie  went  at  him  to  take  some  tickets 
and  learn  about  Socialism — and  would  you  believe  it,  he  had 
actually  shelled  out  a  dollar!  "I  found  out  afterwards  that  it 
was  Ashton  Chalmers,  the  president  of  the  bank !"  said  Jimmie. 
"Fd  a'  been  scared,  if  I'd  a'  known." 

He  had  not  meant  to  talk  about  himself;  he  was  just  trying 
to  entertain  a  tired  Candidate,  to  keep  him  from  brooding  over 
a  world  going  to  war.  But  the  Candidate,  listening,  found 
tears  trying  to  steal  into  his  eyes.  He  watched  the  figure  before 
him — a  bowed,  undernourished  little  man,  with  one  shoulder 
lower  than  the  other,  a  straggly  brown  moustache  stained  with 
coffee,  and  stumpy  black  teeth,  and  gnarled  hands  into  which 
the  dirt  and  grease  were  ground  so  deeply  that  washing  them 
would  obviously  be  a  waste  of  time.  His  clothes  were  worn  and 
shapeless,  his  celluloid  collar  was  cracked  and  his  necktie  was 
almost  a  rag.  You  would  never  have  looked  at  such  a  man 
twice  on  the  street — and  yet  the  Candidate  saw  in  him  one  of 


10  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

those  obscure  heroes  who  are  making  a  movement  which  is  to 
transform  the  world. 


"Comrade  Higgins,"  said  the  Candidate,  after  a  bit,  "let's 
you  and  me  run  away/' 

Jimmie  looked  startled.     "How?" 

"I  mean  from  the  Committee,  and  from  the  meeting,  and 
from  everything."  And  then,  seeing  the  dismay  in  the  other's 
face:  "I  mean,  let's  take  a  walk  in  the  country ." 

"Oh !"  said  Jimmie. 

.  "I  see  it  through  the  windows  of  the  railroad-cars,  but  I 
don't  set  foot  on  it  for  months  at  a  time.  And  I  was  brought 
up  in  the  country.  Were  you  ?" 

"I  was  brought  up  everywhere,"  said  the  little  machinist. 

They  got  up,  and  paid  each  their  ten  cents  to  the  proprietor 
of  the  "Buffeteria."  Jimmie  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to 
introduce  his  hero,  and  show  a  pious  Catholic  that  a  Socialist 
Candidate  had  neither  hoofs  nor  horns.  The  Candidate  was 
used  to  being  introduced  for  that  purpose,  and  had  certain  spon- 
taneous and  cordial  words  which  he  had  said  not  less  than  ten 
thousand  times  before;  with  the  result  that  the  pious  Catholic 
gave  his  promise  to  come  to  the  meeting  that  night. 

They  went  out;  and  because  some  member  of  the  Committee 
might  be  passing  on  Main  Street,  Jimmie  took  his  hero  by  an 
alley  into  a  back  street;  and  they  walked  past  the  glass-factory, 
which  to  the  outsider  was  a  long  board  fence,  and  across  the 
Atlantic  Western  railroad  tracks,  and  past  the  carpet-factory,  a 
huge  four-story  box  made  of  bricks;  after  which  the  rows  of 
wooden  shacks  began  to  thin  out,  and  there  were  vacant  lots 
and  ash-heaps,  and  at  last  the  beginning  of  farms. 

The  Candidate's  legs  were  long,  and  Jimmie's,  alas,  were 
short,  so  he  had  almost  to  run.  The  sun  blazed  down  on  them, 
and  sweat,  starting  from  the  Candidate's  bald  head,  stole  under 
the  band  of  his  straw  hat  and  down  to  his  wilting  collar;  so  he 
took  off  his  coat  and  hung  it  over  his  arm,  and  went  on,  faster 
than  ever.  Jimmie  raced  beside  him,  afraid  to  speak,  for  he 
divined  that  the  Candidate  was  brooding  over  the  world-calamity, 
the  millions  of  young  men  marching  out  to  slaughter.  On 
the  placards  which  Jimmie  had  been  distributing  in  Leesville, 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  CANDIDATE     11 

there  were  two  lines  about  the  Candidate,  written  by  America's 
favourite  poet: 

As  warm  heart  as  ever  beat 
Betwixt  here  and  judgment  seat. 

So  they  went  on  for  perhaps  an  hour,  by  which  time  they 
were  really  in  the  country.  They  came  to  a  bridge  which 
crossed  the  river  Lee,  and  there  the  Candidate  suddenly  stopped, 
and  stood  looking  at  the  water  sliding  below  him,  and  at  the 
vista  through  which  it  wound,  an  avenue  of  green  trees  with 
stretches  of  pasture  and  cattle  grazing.  "That  looks  fine," 
he  said.  "Let's  go  down."  So  they  climbed  a  fence,  and  made 
their  way  along  the  river  for  a  distance,  until  a  turn  of  the 
stream  took  them  out  of  sight  of  the  road. 

There  they  sat  on  a  shelving  bank,  and  mopped  the  per- 
spiration from  their  foreheads  and  necks,  and  gazed  into  the 
rippling  current.  You  couldn't  exactly  say  it  was  crystal  clear, 
for  when  there  is  a  town  every  ten  miles  or  so  along  a  stream, 
with  factories  pouring  various  kinds  of  chemicals  into  it,  the 
job  becomes  too  much  for  the  restoring  forces  of  Mother  Nature. 
But  it  would  take  a  dirty  stream  indeed  not  to  look  inviting  in 
midsummer  after  a  four  mile  walk.  So  presently  the  Candidate 
turned  to  Jimmie,  with  a  mischievous  look  upon  his  face. 
"Comrade  Higgins,  were  you  ever  in  a  swimmin'  hole?" 

"Sure  I  was!"  said  Jimmie. 

"Where?" 

"Everywhere.  I  was  on  the  road  off  an'  on  ten  years — till 
I  got  married." 

"Well,"  said  the  Candidate,  still  smiling,  "what  do  you  say  ?" 

"I  say  sure!"  replied  Jimmie.  I 

He  was  almost  beside  himself  with  awe,  at  this  unbelievable 
strange  fortune,  this  real  comradeship  with  the  hero  of  his 
dreams.  To  Jimmie  this  man  had  been  a  disembodied  intel- 
ligence, a  dispenser  of  proletarian  inspiration,  a  supernatural 
being  who  went  about  the  country  standing  upon  platforms  and 
swaying  the  souls  of  multitudes.  It  had  never  occurred  to 
Jimmie  that  he  might  have  a  bare  body,  and  might  enjoy 
splashing  about  in  cool  water  like  a  boy  playing  "hookey"  from 
school.  The  saying  is  that  familiarity  breeds  contempt,  but  for 
Jimmie  it  bred  rapture. 


12  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 


VI 

They  walked  home  again,  more  slowly.  The  Candidate 
asked  Jimmie  about  his  life,  and  Jimmie  told  the  story  of  a 
Socialist — not  one  of  the  leaders,  the  "intellectuals/5  but  of  the 
"rank  and  file."  Jimmie's  father  was  a  workingman  out  of  a 
job,  who  had  left  his  family  before  Jimmie  had  joined  it ;  Jim- 
mie's mother  had  died  three  years  later,  so  he  did  not  remember 
her,  nor  could  he  recall  a  word  of  the  foreign  language  he  had 
spoken  at  home,  nor  did  he  even  know  what  the  language  was. 
He  had  been  taken  in  charge  by  the  city,  and  farmed  out  to  a 
negro  woman,  who  had  eight  miserable  starvelings  under  her 
.care,  feeding  them  on  gruel  and  water,  and  not  even  giving 
them  a  blanket  in  winter.  You  might  not  think  that  possible — 

"I  know  America/'  put  in  the  Candidate. 

Jimmie  went  on.  At  nine  he  had  been  boarded  with  a  wood- 
saw  man,  who  worked  him  sixteen  hours  a  day  and  beat  him 
in  addition;  so  Jimmie  had  skipped  out,  and  for  ten  years  had 
lived  the  life  of  a  street  waif  in  the  cities  and  a  hobo  on  the 
road.  He  had  learned  a  bit  about  machinery,  helping  in  a 
garage,  and  then,  in  a  rush-time,  he  had  got  a  job  in  the  Empire 
Machine  Shops.  He  had  stayed  in  Leesville,  because  he  had 
got  married;  he  had  met  his  wife  in  a  brothel,  and  she  had 
wanted  to  quit  the  life,  and  they  had  taken  a  chance  together. 

"I  don't  tell  that  to  everybody/'  said  Jimmie.  "You  know — 
they  mightn't  unnerstand.  But  I  don't  mind  you  knowin'." 

"Thank  you,"  replied  the  Candidate,  and  put  his  hand  on 
Jimmie's  shoulder.  "Tell  me  how  you  became  a  Socialist/' 

There  was  nothing  special  about  that,  was  the  answer. 
There  had  been  a  fellow  in  the  shop  who  was  always  "chewing 
the  rag";  Jimmie  had  laughed  at  him — for  his  life  had  made 
him  suspicious  of  everybody,  and  if  there  was  any  sort  of  poli- 
tician, it  was  just  another  scheme  of  somebody  to  wear  a  white 
collar  and  live  off  the  workers.  But  the  fellow  had  kept  peg- 
ging away;  and  once  Jimmie  had  been  laid  off  for  a  couple  of 
months,  and  the  family  had  near  starved,  and  that  had  given 
him  time  to  think,  and  also  the  inclination.  The  fellow  had 
come  along  with  some  papers,  and  Jimmie  had  read  them,  and 
it  dawned  upon  him  that  here  was  a  movement  of  his  fellow- 
workers  to  put  an  end  to  their  torments. 

"How  long  ago  was  that?"  asked  the  Candidate,  and  Jimmie 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  CANDIDATE      13 

answered  three  years.  "And  you  haven't  lost  your  enthusiasm  ?" 
This  with  an  intensity  that  surprised  Jimmie.  No,  he  an- 
swered, he  was  not  that  kind.  Whatever  happened,  he  would 
keep  pegging  away  at  the  task  of  freeing  labour.  He  would 
not  see  the  New  Day,  perhaps,  but  his  children  would  see  it;  and 
a  fellow  would  work  like  the  devil  to  save  his  children. 

So  they  came  to  the  city ;  and  the  Candidate  pressed  Jimmie's 
arm.  "Comrade,"  he  said,  "I  want  to  tell  you  how  much  good 
this  little  trip  has  done  me.  I  owe  you  a  debt  of  gratitude." 

"Me  ?"  exclaimed  Jimmie. 

"You  have  given  me  fresh  hope  and  courage,  and  at  a  time 
when  I  felt  beaten.  I  got  into  town  this  morning,  and  I'd  had 
no  sleep,  and  I  tried  to  get  some  in  the  hotel  and  couldn't,  be- 
cause of  the  horror  that's  happening.  I  wrote  a  dozen  telegrams 
and  sent  them  off,  and  then  I  was  afraid  to  go  back  to  the  hotel- 
room,  because  I  knew  I'd  only  lie  awake  all  afternoon.  But 
now — I  remember  that  our  movement  is  rooted  in  the  hearts' 
of  the  people !" 

Jimmie  was  trembling.  But  all  he  could  say  was :  "I  wisht 
I  could  do  it  every  Sunday." 

"So  do  I,"  said  the  Candidate. 


VII 

They  walked  down  Main  Street,  and  some  ways  ahead  they 
saw  a  crowd  gathered,  filling  the  side-walk  beyond  the  curb. 
"What  is  that?"  asked  the  Candidate,  and  Jimmie  answered 
that  it  was  the  office  of  the  "Herald."  There  must  be  some 
news. 

The  other  hastened  his  steps ;  and  Jimmie,  striding  alongside, 
fell  silent  again,  knowing  that  the  gigantic  burden  and  woe 
of  the  world  was  falling  upon  his  hero's  shoulders  once  more. 
They  came  to  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  and  saw  a  bulletin  in  front 
of  the  newspaper  office.  But  it  was  too  far  away  for  them  to 
r^atf ,  "What  is  it?"  they  asked. 

v"It  says  the  Germans  are  going  to  march  into  Belgium.  And 
they've  shot  a  lot  of  Socialists  in  Germany." 

"Whatf  And  the  Candidate's  hand  clutched  Jimmie's 
arm. 

"That's  what  it  says." 

"My  God !"  exclaimed  the  man.    And  he  began  pushing  his 


14  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

way  into  the  crowd,  with  Jimmie  in  his  wake.  They  got  to 
the  bulletin,  and  stood  reading  the  type-written  words — a  bare 
announcement  that  more  than  a  hundred  leading  German 
Socialists  had  been  executed  for  efforts  to  prevent  mobilisation. 
They  continued  staring,  until  people  pushing  behind  them  caused 
them  to  draw  back.  Outside  the  throng  they  stood,  the  Candi- 
date gazing  into  space,  and  Jimmie  gazing  at  the  Candidate, 
both  of  them  dumb.  It  was  a  fact  that  they  could  not  have 
been  more  shocked  if  the  news  had  referred  to  the  members  of 
Local  Leesville  of  the  Socialist  Party  of  America. 

The  pain  in  the  Candidate's  face  was  so  evident  that  Jimmie 
groped  about  in  his  head  for  something  comforting  to  say.  "At 
least  they  done  what  they  could/'  he  whispered. 

The  other  suddenly  burst  forth:  "They  are  heroes!  They 
have  made  the  name  Socialist  sacred  forever !"  He  rushed  on, 
as  if  he  were  making  a  speech — so  strong  becomes  a  life-time 
habit.  "They  have  written  their  names  at  the  very  top  of 
humanity's  roll  of  honour !  It  doesn't  make  any  difference  what 
happens  after  this,  Comrade — the  movement  has  vindicated  it- 
self !  All  the  future  will  be  changed  because  of  this  event !" 

He  began  to  walk  down  the  street,  talking  more  to  himself 
than  to  Jimmie.  He  was  borne  away  on  the  wings  of  his  vision ; 
and  his  companion  was  so  thrilled  that  he  honestly  did  not  know 
where  he  was.  Afterwards,  when  he  looked  back  upon  this 
scene,  it  remained  the  most  wonderful  event  of  his  life;  he  told 
the  story,  sooner  or  later,  to  every  Socialist  he  met. 

Presently  the  Candidate  stopped.  "Comrade,"  he  said,  "I 
must  go  to  the  hotel.  I  want  to  write  some  telegrams.  You 
explain  to  the  Committee — I'd  rather  not  see  any  one  till  time 
for  the  meeting.  I'll  find  the  way  myself." 


CHAPTER  II 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  HEARS  A  SPEECH 


TN  the  Opera-house  were  gathered  Comrade  Mabel  Smith  and 
•*•  Comrade  Meissner  and  Comrade  Goldstein,  the  secretary  of 
the  Ypsels,  and  the  three  members  of  the  Reception  Committee 
— Comrade  Norwood,  the  rising  young  lawyer,  Comrade  Dr. 
Service,  and  Comrade  Schultze  of  the  Carpet-weavers'  Union. 
To  them  rushed  the  breathless  Jimmie.  "Have  you  heard  the 
news?" 

"What  is  it?" 

"A  hundred  Socialist  leaders  shot  in  Germany!" 

"Herr  Gott !"  cried  Comrade  Schultze,  in  horror ;  and  every 
one  turned  instinctively,  for  they  knew  how  this  came  home  to 
him — he  had  a  brother  who  was  a  Socialist  editor  in  Leipzig, 
and  who  was  liable  for  the  mobilisation. 

"Where  did  you  see  it?"  cried  Schultze;  and  Jimmie  told 
what  he  knew.  And  then  what  a  clamour  broke  forth !  Others 
were  called  from  the  back  part  of  the  hall,  and  came  running, 
and  there  were  questions  and  cries  of  dismay.  Here,  too,  it 
was  as  if  the  crime  had  been  committed  against  Local  Leesville 
— so  completely  did  they  feel  themselves  one  with  the  victims. 
In  a  town  where  there  was  a  brewery,  needless  to  say  there  were 
German  workers  a-plenty;  but  even  had  this  not  been  so,  the 
feeling  would  have  been  the  same,  for  the  Socialists  of  the  world 
were  one,  the  soul  of  the  movement  was  its  internationalism. 
The  Candidate,  discovering  that  Jimmie  was  a  Socialist,  had 
asked  and  received  no  further  introduction,  but  had  been  in- 
stantly his  friend;  and  so  it  would  have  been  with  a  comrade 
from  Germany,  Japan,  or  the  heart  of  Africa — he  might  not 
have  known  another  word  of  English,  the  word  "Socialist"  would 
have  sufficed. 

15 


16  JIMMIE 

It  was  a  long  time  before  they  thought  of  any  other  matter ; 
but  finally  some  one  referred  to  the  trouble  which  had  fallen 
upon  the  local — the  Candidate  had  not  showed  up.  And  Jimmie 
exclaimed,  "Why,  he's  here!"  And  instantly  all  turned  upon 
him.  Where?  When?  How? 

"He  came  this  morning." 

"And  why  didn't  you  let  us  know?"  It  was  Comrade  Dr. 
Service  of  the  Eeception  Committee  who  spoke,  and  with  a  de- 
cided sharpness  in  his  tone. 

"He  didn't  want  anybody  to  know,"  said  Jimmie. 

"Did  he  want  us  to  go  to  the  train  and  think  he  had 
failed  us?" 

Sure  enough,  it  was  after  train-time !  Jimmie  had  entirely 
forgotten  both  the  train  and  the  committee,  and  now  he  had 
not  the  grace  to  hide  his  offence.  All  he  could  do  was  to  tell 
his  story — how  he  had  spent  the  afternoon  walking  in  the  coun- 
try with  the  Candidate,  and  how  they  had  gone  in  swimming, 
and  how  they  had  got  the  news  from  the  bulletin-board,  and  how 
the  Candidate  had  acted  and  what  he  had  said.  Poor  Jimmie 
never  doubted  but  that  his  own  thrill  was  shared  by  all  the 
others ;  and  at  the  next  regular  meeting  of  the  local,  when  Com- 
rade Dr.  Service  sat  down  hard  on  some  proposition  which 
Jimmie  had  ventured  to  make,  the  little  machinist  had  not  the 
least  idea  what  he  had  done  to  deserve  the  snub.  He  was 
lacking  in  worldly  sense,  he  did  not  understand  that  a  prosper- 
ous physician,  who  comes  into  the  movement  out  of  pure  human- 
itarianism,  contributing  his  prestige  and  his  wealth  to  the  cer- 
tain detriment  of  his  social  and  business  interests,  is  entitled 
to  a  certain  deference  from  the  Jimmie  Higginses,  and  even 
from  a  Candidate! 


ii 

You  might  have  thought  that  Jimmie  would  be  tired;  but 
this  was  a  day  on  which  the  flesh  had  no  claims.  First  he 
helped  Comrade  Mabel  in  depositing  upon  every  seat  a  leaflet 
containing  a  letter  from  the  local  candidate  for  Congress;  then 
he  rushed  away  to  catch  a  street-car,  and  spent  his  last  nickel 
to  get  to  his  home  and  keep  his  engagement  with  Lizzie.  He 
would  not  make  with  her  the  mistake  he  had  made  with  the 
Committee,  you  bet ! 


JIMMIE  HIOaiNS  HEARS  A  SPEECH  17 

He  found  that  Lizzie  had  faithfully  carried  out  her  part 
of  the  bargain.  The  three  babies  were  done  up  in  bright- 
coloured  calico  dresses;  she  had  spent  the  morning  in  washing 
and  ironing  these  garments — also  her  own  dress,  which  was 
half  red  and  half  green,  and  of  generous,  almost  crinoline  pro- 
portions. Lizzie  herself  was  built  on  that  scale,  with  broad 
hips  and  bosom,  big  brown  eyes  and  heavy  dark  hair.  She  was 
a  fine  strong  woman  when  she  had  shed  her  bedraggled  house 
gown,  and  Jimmie  was  proud  of  his  capability  as  a  chooser  of 
wives.  It  was  no  small  feat  to  find  a  good  woman,  and  to 
recognise  her,  where  Jimmie  had  found  Lizzie.  She  was  five 
years  older  than  he,  a  Bohemian,  having  been  brought  to 
America  when  she  was  a  baby.  Her  former  name — you  could 
hardly  call  it  her  "maiden"  name,  considering  the  circumstances 
— was  Elizabeth  Huszar,  which  she  pronounced  so  that  for  a 
long  time  Jimmie  had  understood  it  to  be  Eleeza  Betooser. 

Jimmie  snatched  a  bite  of  bread  and  drank  a  cup  of  metallic 
tasting  tea,  and  packed  the  family  into  the  baby-carriage,  and 
trudged  the  mile  and  a  half  to  the  centre  of  the  city.  When 
they  arrived,  Lizzie  took  the  biggest  child,  and  Jimmie  the 
other  two,  and  so  they  trudged  into  the  Opera-house.  On  this 
hot  night  it  was  like  holding  three  stoves  in  your  arms,  and  if 
the  babies  woke  up  and  began  to  cry,  the  parents  would  have 
the  painful  choice  of  missing  something,  or  else  facing  the 
disgusted  looks  of  every  one  about  them.  In  Belgium,  at  the 
"People's  House,"  the  Socialists  maintained  a  creche,  but  the 
American  movement  had  not  yet  discovered  that  useful  insti- 
tution. 

Already  the  hall  was  half  full,  and  a  stream  of  people  pour- 
ing in.  Jimmie  got  himself  and  family  seated,  and  then  turned 
his  eager  eyes  proudly  to  survey  the  scene.  The  would-be-con- 
gressman's circulars  which  he  had  placed  in  the  seats  were  now 
being  read  by  the  sitters;  the  banners  he  had  so  laboriously 
hung  were  resplendent  on  the  walls;  there  was  a  pitcher  of  ice 
water  on  the  speaker's  table,  and  a  bouquet  of  flowers  and  a  gavel 
for  the  chairman;  the  seats  in  the  rear  of  the  platform  for  the 
Liederkranz  were  neatly  ranged,  most  of  them  already  occupied 
by  solid  German  figures  topped  by  rosy  German  faces:  to  each 
detail  of  which  achievements  Jimmie  had  lent  a  hand.  He 
had  a  pride  of  possession  in  this  great  buzzing  throng,  and  in 
the  debt  they  owed  to  him.  They  had  no  idea  of  it,  of  course; 


18  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

the  boobs,  they  thought  that  a  meeting  like  this  just  grew  out 
of  nothing!  They  paid  their  ten  cents — twenty-five  cents  for 
reserved  seats — and  imagined  that  covered  everything,  with  per- 
haps even  a  rake-off  for  somebody !  They  would  grumble,  won- 
dering why  the  Socialists  persisted  in  charging  admission  for 
their  meetings — why  they  could  not  let  people  in  free  as  the 
Democrats  and  Republicans  did.  They  would  go  to  Democratic 
and  Kepublican  meetings,  and  enjoy  the  brass-band  and  the  fire- 
works, pyrotechnical  and  oratorical — never  dreaming  it  was  all 
a  snare  paid  for  by  their  exploiters ! 

Well,  they  would  learn  about  it  to-night!  Jimmie  thought 
of  the  Candidate,  and  how  he  would  impress  this  man  and  that. 
For  Jimmie  knew  scores  who  had  got  tickets,  and  he  peered 
about  after  this  one  and  that,  and  gave  them  a  happy  nod  from 
behind  his  barricade  of  babies.  Then,  craning  his  neck  to  look 
behind  him,  suddenly  Jimmie  gave  a  start.  Coming  down  the 
aisle  was  Ashton  Chalmers,  president  of  the  First  National  Bank 
of  Leesville;  and  with  him — could  it  be  possible? — old  man 
Granitch,  owner  of  the  huge  Empire  Machine  Shops  where 
Jimmie  worked!  The  little  machinist  found  himself  shaking 
with  excitement  as  these  two  tall  forms  strode  past  him  down 
the  aisle.  He  gave  Lizzie  a  nudge  with  his  elbow  and  whispered 
into  her  ear;  and  all  around  was  a  buzz  of  whispers — for,  of 
course,  everybody  knew  these  two  mighty  men,  the  heads  of 
the  "invisible  government"  of  Leesville.  They  had  come  to  find 
out  what  their  subjects  were  thinking!  Well,  they  would  get 
It  straight! 

ill 

The  big  hall  was  full,  and  the  aisles  began  to  jam,  and  then 
the  police  closed  the  doors — something  which  Jimmie  took  as 
part  of  the  universal  capitalist  conspiracy.  The  audience  began 
to  chafe;  until  at  last  the  chairman  walked  out  upon  the  stage, 
followed  by  several  important  persons  who  took  front  seats. 
The  singers  stood  up,  and  the  leader  waved  his  wand,  and  forth 
came  the  Marseillaise:  a  French  revolutionary  hymn,  sung  in 
English  by  a  German  organisation — there  was  Internationalism 
for  you !  With  full  realisation  of  the  solemnity  of  this  world- 
crisis,  they  sang  as  if  they  hoped  to  be  heard  in  Europe. 
And  then  rose  the  Chairman — Comrade  Dr.  Service.  He  was 


JIMMIE  BIGGINS  HEARS  A  SPEECH  19 

a  fine,  big  figure  of  a  man,  with  grey  moustache  and  beard 
trimmed  to  a  point;  his  swelling  chest  was  covered  by  clean 
white  linen  and  tight-fitting  broad-cloth,  and  he  made  a  most 
imposing  chairman,  reflecting  credit  on  the  movement.  He 
cleared  his  throat,  and  told  them  that  they  had  come  that  even- 
ing to  listen  to  one  of  America's  greatest  orators,  and  that  there- 
fore he,  the  Chairman,  would  not  make  a  speech;  after  which 
he  proceeded  to  make  a  speech.  He  told  them  what  a  grave 
hour  this  was,  and  how  the  orator  would  tell  them  its  meaning; 
after  which  he  proceeded  to  tell  most  of  the  things  which  the 
orator  would  tell.  This  was  a  weakness  of  Comrade  Dr.  Service 
— but  one  hesitated  to  point  it  out  to  him,  because  of  his  black 
broad-cloth  suit  and  his  imposing  appearance,  and  the  money 
he  had  put  up  to  pay  for  the  hall. 

At  last,  however,  he  called  on  the  Liederkranz  again,  and  a 
quartette  sang  a  German  song  and  then  an  encore.  And  then 
came  Comrade  Gerrity,  the  hustling  young  insurance-agent  who 
was  organiser  for  the  local,  and  whose  task  it  was  to  make  a 
"collection  speech."  He  had  humorous  ways  of  extracting 
money — "Here  I  am  again!"  he  began,  and  everybody  smiled, 
knowing  his  bag  of  tricks.  While  he  was  telling  his  newest 
funny  story,  Jimmie  was  unloading  the  littlest  infant  into 
Lizzie's  spare  arm,  and  laying  the  other  on  the  seat  with  its 
head  against  her  knee,  and  getting  himself  out  into  the  aisle,  hat 
in  hand  and  ready  for  business;  and  as  soon  as  the  organiser 
ceased  and  the  Liederkranz  resumed,  Jimmie  set  to  work  gather- 
ing the  coin.  His  territory  was  the  reserved-seat  section  up  in 
front,  where  sat  the  two  mighty  magnates.  Jimmie's  knees  went 
weak,  but  he  did  his  duty,  and  was  tickled  to  see  each  of  the 
pair  drop  a  coin  into  the  hat,  to  be  used  in  overthrowing  their 
power  in  Leesville ! 

IV 

The  hats  were  taken  to  the  box-office  and  emptied,  and  the 
collection-takers  and  the  Liederkranz  singers  resumed  their  seats. 
An  expectant  hush  fell — and  then  at  last  there  strode  out  on 
the  stage  the  Candidate.  What  a  storm  broke  out!  Men 
cheered  and  clapped  and  shouted.  He  took  his  seat  modestly;, 
but  as  the  noise  continued,  he  was  justified  in  assuming  that  it 
was  meant  for  him,  and  he  rose  and  bowed ;  as  it  still  continued. 


20  JIMMIB  HIGGINS 

he  bowed  again,  and  then  again.  It  had  been  the  expectation 
of  Comrade  Dr.  Service  to  come  forward  and  say  that,  of  course, 
it  was  not  necessary  for  any  one  to  introduce  the  speaker  of 
the  evening;  but  the  audience,  as  if  it  had  read  the  worthy 
doctor's  intention,  kept  on  applauding,  until  the  Candidate  him- 
self advanced,  and  raised  his  hand,  and  began  his  speech. 

He  did  not  stop  for  any  oratorical  preliminaries.  This,  he 
said — and  his  voice  trembled  with  emotion — was  the  solemnest 
hour  that  men  had  ever  faced  on  earth.  That  day  on  the  bulle- 
tin-board of  their  local  newspaper  he  had  read  tidings  which 
had  moved  him  as  he  had  never  before  been  moved  in  his  life, 
which  had  almost  deprived  him  of  the  power  to  walk  upon  a 
stage  and  address  an  audience.  Perhaps  they  had  not  heard 
the  news;  he  told  it  to  them,  and  there  sprang  from  the  audi- 
ence a  cry  of  indignation. 

Yes,  they  might  well  protest,  said  the  speaker;  nowhere  on 
all  the  bloody  pages  of  history  could  you  find  a  crime  more  re- 
volting than  this!  The  masters  of  Europe  had  gone  mad  in 
their  lust  for  power;  they  had  called  down  the  vengeance  of 
mankind  upon  their  crowned  and  coronetted  heads.  Here  to- 
night he  would  tell  them — and  the  speaker's  hoarse  and  raucous 
voice  mounted  to  a  shout  of  rage — he  would  tell  them  that  in 
signing  the  death-warrant  of  those  heroic  martyrs,  they  had 
sealed  the  doom  of  their  own  order,  they  had  torn  out  the  foun- 
dation-stones from  the  structure  of  capitalist  society!  The 
speaker's  voice  seemed  to  lift  the  audience  from  its  seats,  and 
the  last  words  of  the  sentence  were  drowned  in  a  tumult  of  ap- 
plause. 

Silence  fell  again,  and  the  man  went  on.  He  had  peculiar 
mannerisms  on  the  platform.  His  lanky  form  was  never  still 
for  an  instant.  He  hurried  from  one  end  of  the  stage  to  the 
other ;  he  would  crouch  and  bend  as  if  he  were  going  to  spring 
upon  the  audience,  a  long,  skinny  finger  would  be  shaken  before 
their  faces,  or  pointed  as  if  to  drive  his  words  into  their  hearts. 
His  speech  was  a  torrent  of  epigram,  sarcasm,  invective.  He 
was  bitter;  if  you  knew  nothing  about  the  man  or  his  cause, 
you  would  find  this  repellent  and  shocking.  You  had  to  know 
what  his  life  had  been — an  unceasing  conflict  with  oppression; 
he  had  got  his  Socialist  education  in  jail,  where  he  had  been 
sent  for  trying  to  organise  the  wage-slaves  of  a  gigantic  corpora- 
tion. His  rage  was  the  rage  of  a  tender-hearted  poet,  a  lover 


JIMMIE  HIGGIttS  HEARS  A  SPEECH  21 

of  children  and  of  Nature,  driven  mad  by  the  sight  of  torment 
wantonly  inflicted.  And  if  ever  he  had  seemed  to  you  an  ex- 
tremist, too  angry  to  be  excused,  here  to-night  he  had  his 
vindication,  here  to-night  you  saw  him  as  a  prophet.  For 
now  the  master-class  had  torn  the  mask  from  its  face,  and 
revealed  to  the  whole  world  what  were  its  moral  standards !  At 
last  men  saw  their  rulers  face  to  face ! 

They  had  plunged  mankind  into  a  pit  of  lunacy.  "They 
call  it  war/5  cried  the  speaker;  "but  I  call  it  murder."  And 
he  went  on  to  picture  to  them  what  was  happening  in  Europe 
at  that  hour — he  brought  the  awful  nightmare  before  their  eyes, 
he  showed  them  homes  blown  to  pieces,  cities  given  to  the  flames, 
the  bodies  of  men  pierced  by  bullets  or  torn  to  fragments  by 
shells.  He  pictured  a  bayonet  plunged  into  the  abdomen  of  a 
man ;  he  made  you  see  the  ghastly  deed,  and  feel  its  shuddering 
wickedness.  Men  and  women  and  children  sat  spell-bound;  and 
for  once  no  man  could  say  aloud  or  feel  in  his  heart  that  the 
pictures  of  a  Socialist  agitator  were  overdrawn — no,  not  even 
Ashton  Chalmers,  president  of  the  First  National  Bank  of  Lees- 
ville,  or  old  Abel  Granitch,  proprietor  of  the  Empire  Machine 
Shops! 


And  what  was  the  cause  of  this  blackest  of  calamities  ?  The 
speaker  went  on  to  show  that  the  determining  motive  was  not 
racial  jealousy,  but  commercial  greed.  The  fountain-head  of 
the  war  was  world-capitalism,  clamouring  for  markets,  seeking 
to  get  rid  of  its  surplus  products,  to  keep  busy  its  hordes  of 
wage-slaves  at  home.  He  analysed  the  various  factors;  and 
now,  with  the  shadow  of  the  European  storm  over  their  heads — 
now  at  last  men  and  women  would  listen,  they  would  realise  that 
the  matter  concerned  them.  He  warned  them — let  them  not 
think  that  they  were  safe  from  the  hoofs  of  this  war-monster, 
just  because  they  were  three  thousand  miles  away !  Capitalism 
was  a  world  phenomenon,  and  all  the  forces  of  parasitism  and 
exploitation  which  had  swept  Europe  into  this  tragedy  were 
active  here  in  America.  The  money-masters,  the  profit-seekers, 
would  leap  to  take  advantage  of  the  collapse  over  the  seas ;  there 
would  be  jealousies,  disputes — let  the  audience  understand,  once 
for  all,  that  if  world-capitalism  did  not  make  this  a  world-war, 


22  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

it  would  be  only  because  the  workers  of  America  took  warning, 
and  made  their  preparations  to  frustrate  the  conspiracy. 

This  was  what  he  had  come  for,  this  was  the  heart  of  his 
message.  Many  of  those  who  listened  were  refugees  from  the 
old  world,  having  fled  its  oppressions  and  enslavements.  He 
pleaded  with  them  now,  as  a  man  whose  heart  was  torn  by  more 
suffering  than  he  could  bear — let  there  be  one  part  of  the  fair 
garden  of  earth  into  which  the  demons  of  destruction  might  not 
break  their  way !  Let  them  take  warning  in  time,  let  them  or- 
ganise and  establish  their  own  machinery  of  information  and 
propaganda — so  that  when  the  crisis  came,  when  the  money- 
masters  of  America  sounded  the  war-drums,  there  might  be — 
not  the  destruction  and  desolation  which  these  masters  willed, 
but  the  joy  and  freedom  of  the  Co-operative  Commonwealth ! 

"How  many  years  we  Socialists  have  warned  you !"  he  cried. 
"But  you  have  doubted  us,  you  have  believed  what  your  ex- 
ploiters have  told  you!  And  now,  in  this  hour  of  crisis,  you 
look  at  Europe  and  discover  who  are  the  real  friends  of  human- 
ity, of  civilisation.  What  voice  comes  over  the  seas,  protest- 
ing against  war?  The  Socialist  voice,  and  the  Socialist  voice 
alone !  And  to-night,  once  more,  you  hear  it  in  this  hall !  You 
men  and  women  of  America,  and  you  exiles  from  all  corners 
of  the  world — make  this  pledge  with  me — make  it  now,  before 
it  is  too  late,  and  stand  by  it  when  the  hour  of  crisis  comes! 
Swear  it  by  the  blood  of  our  martyred  heroes,  those  slaughtered 
German  Socialists — swear  that  come  what  will,  and  when  and 
how  it  will,  that  no  power  on  earth  or  in  hell  beneath  the  earth 
shall  draw  you  into  this  fratricidal  war !  Make  this  resolution, 
send  this  message  to  all  the  nations  of  the  earth — that  the  men 
of  all  nations  and  all  races  are  your  brothers,  and  that  never 
will  you  consent  to  shed  their  blood.  If  the  money-masters  and 
the  exploiters  want  war,  let  them  have  it,  but  let  it  be  among 
themselves!  Let  them  take  the  bombs  and  shells  they  have 
made  and  go  out  against  one  another !  Let  them  blow  their  own 
class  to  pieces — but  let  them  not  seek  to  lure  the  working-people 
into  their  quarrels  \" 

Again  and  again,  in  answer  to  such  exhortations,  the  audi- 
ence broke  out  into  shouts  of  applause.  Men  raised  their  hands 
in  solemn  pledge;  and  the  Socialists  among  them  went  home 
from  the  meeting  with  a  new  gravity  in  their  faces,  a  new  con- 
secration in  their  hearts.  They  had  made  a  vow,  and  they 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  HEARS  A  SPEECH  23 

would  keep  it — yes,  even  though  it  meant  sharing  the  fate  of 
their  heroic  German  comrades ! 

— And  then  in  the  morning  they  opened  their  papers,  looking 
eagerly  for  more  details  about  the  fate  of  the  heroic  German 
comrades,  and  they  found  none.  Day  after  day,  morning  and 
afternoon,  they  looked  for  more  details,  and  found  none.  On 
the  contrary,  to  their  unutterable  bewilderment,  they  learned 
that  the  leaders  of  the  German  Social-democracy  had  voted  for 
the  war-budgets,  and  that  the  rank  and  file  of  the  movement 
were  hammering  out  the  goose-step  on  the  roads  of  Belgium  and 
France!  They  could  not  bring  themselves  to  believe  it;  even 
yet  they  have  not  brought  themselves  to  realise  that  the  story 
which  thrilled  them  so  on  that  fatal  Sunday  afternoon  was 
only  a  cunning  lie  sent  out  by  the  German  war-lords,  in  the 
hope  of  causing  the  Socialists  of  Belgium  and  France  and  Eng- 
land to  revolt,  and  so  give  the  victory  to  Germany ! 


CHAPTER  III 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DEBATES  THE  ISSUE 


THHE  grey  flood  of  frightfulness  rolled  over  Belgium;  and 
*•  every  morning,  and  again  in  the  afternoon,  the  front  page 
of  the  Leesville  newspaper  was  like  the  explosion  of  a  bomb. 
Twenty-five  thousand  Germans  killed  in  one  assault  on  Liege; 
a  quarter  of  a  million  Russians  massacred  or  drowned  in  the 
swamps  of  the  Masurian  lakes;  so  it  went,  until  the  minds  of 
men  reeled.  They  saw  empires  and  civilisations  crumbling  be- 
fore their  eyes,  all  those  certainties  upon  which  their  lives  had 
been  built  vanishing  as  a  mist  at  sunrise. 

Hitherto,  Jimmie  Higgins  had  always  refused  to  take  a 
daily  paper.  No  capitalist  lies  for  him;  he  would  save  his 
pennies  for  the  Socialist  weeklies!  But  now  he  had  to  have 
the  news,  and  tired  as  he  was  after  the  day's  work,  he  would 
sit  on  his  front  porch  with  his  ragged  feet  against  a  post,  spell- 
ing out  the  despatches.  Then  he  would  stroll  down  to  the 
cigar-stand  of  Comrade  Stankewitz,  a  wizened-up  little  Rou- 
manian Jew  who  had  lived  in  Europe  and  had  a  map,  and 
would  show  Jimmie  which  was  Russia,  and  why  Germany 
marched  across  Belgium,  and  why  England  had  to  interfere.  It 
was  good  to  have  a  friend  who  was  a  man  of  travel  and  a 
linguist — especially  when  the  fighting  became  centred  about 
places  such  as  Przemysl  and  Przasnyaz! 

Then  every  Friday  night  would  be  the  meeting  of  the  local. 
Jimmie  would  be  the  first  to  arrive,  eager  to  hear  every  word 
the  better  informed  comrades  had  to  say,  and  thus  to  complete 
the  education  which  society  had  so  cruelly  neglected. 

Before  the  war  was  many  weeks  old,  Jimmie's  head  was  in 
a  state  of  utter  bewilderment;  never  would  he  have  thought  it 
possible  for  men  to  hold  so  many  conflicting  opinions,  and  to 

24 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DEBATES  THE  ISSUE         25 

hold  them  with  such  passionate  intensity !  It  seemed  as  if  the 
world-conflict  were  being  fought  out  in  miniature  in  Leesville. 

At  the  third  meeting  after  the  war  began,  the  prosperous  Dr. 
Service  arose,  and  in  his  impressive  oratorical  voice  moved  that 
the  local  should  send  a  telegram  to  the  National  Executive  Com- 
mittee of  the  party,  requesting  it  to  protest  against  the  invasion 
of  Belgium;  also  a  telegram  to  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  requesting  him  to  take  the  same  action.  And  then 
what  pandemonium  broke  loose!  Comrade  Schneider,  the 
brewery-worker,  demanded  to  know  whether  Local  Leesville  had 
ever  requested  the  National  Executive  Committee  to  protest 
against  the  invasion  of  Ireland.  Had  the  Socialist  party  ever 
requested  the  President  of  the  United  States  to  protect  Egypt 
and  India  from  oppression? 

Comrade  Dr.  Service,  who  had  remained  on  his  feet,  began 
a  passionate  denunciation  of  the  outrages  perpetrated  by  the 
German  army  in  Belgium ;  at  which  Comrade  Schneider's  florid 
face  turned  purple.  He  demanded  whether  all  men  did  not 
know  that  France  had  first  invaded  Belgium,  and  that  the  Bel-j 
gians  had  welcomed  the  French  ?  Weren't  all  the  Belgian  forts 
turned  toward  Germany?  Of  course!  answered  the  doctor. 
But  what  of  that?  Was  it  a  crime  for  a  man  to  know  who 
if  as  going  to  attack  him? 

The  purple-faced  brewer,  without  heeding  this  question,  de- 
manded :  Did  not  all  the  world  know  that  the  French  had  begun 
the  war  with  an  aeroplane  bombardment  of  the  German  cities? 
The  Comrade  Doctor,  his  face  also  purpling,  replied  that  all  the 
world  knew  this  for  a  tale  sent  out  by  the  German  propaganda 
machine.  How  did  all  the  world  know  it?  roared  Schneider. 
By  a  cable-censorship  controlled  by  British  gold? 

Jimmie  was  much  excited  by  this  dispute.  The  only  trouble 
was  that  he  found  himself  in  agreement  with  both  sides,  and 
with  an  impulse  to  applaud  both  sides.  And  also  he  applauded 
the  next  speaker,  young  Emil  Forster,  a  pale,  slender,  and  fair- 
haired  youth,  a  designer  in  the  carpet-factory.  Emil  was  one 
who  seldom  raised  his  voice  in  the  meetings,  but  when  he  did, 
he  was  heard  with  attention,  for  he  was  a  student  and  a  thinker ; 
he  played  the  flute,  and  his  father,  also  a  member  of  the  local, 
played  the  clarinet,  so  the  pair  were  invaluable  on  "social  even- 
ings." In  his  gentle,  dispassionate  voice  he  explained  how  it 
was  not  easy  for  people  in  America  to  understand  the  dilemma 


26  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

of  the  German  Socialists  in  the  present  crisis.  We  must  re- 
member that  the  Germans  were  fighting,  not  merely  England 
and  France,  but  Russia;  and  Russia  was  a  huge,  half -civilised 
land,  under  perhaps  the  most  cruel  government  in  the  world. 
How  would  Americans  feel  if  up  in  Canada  there  were  three 
hundred  millions  of  people,  ignorant,  enslaved,  and  being  drilled 
in  huge  armies  ? 

*  All  right,  retorted  Dr.  Service.  But  then  why  did  not 
the  Germans  fight  Russia,  and  let  France  and  Belgium  alone? 
Because,  answered  Emil,  the  French  would  not  permit  that. 
We  in  America  thought  of  France  as  a  republic,  but  we  must 
remember  that  it  was  a  capitalist  republic,  a  nation  ruled  by 
bankers ;  and  these  bankers  had  formed  an  alliance  with  Russia, 
the  sole  possible  aim  of  which  was  the  destruction  of  Germany. 
France  had  loaned  something  like  four  billions  of  dollars  to 
Russia. 

And  then  Schneider  leaped  up.  Yes,  and  it  was  that  money 
which  had  provided  the  cannon  and  shells  that  were  now  being 
used  in  laying  waste  East  Prussia,  the  land  of  Schneider's  birth ! 


II 

The  temper  of  both  sides  was  rising  higher  and  higher,  and 
the  neutrals  made  efforts  to  calm  the  dispute.  Comrade 
Stankewitz,  Jimmie's  cigar-store  friend,  cried  out  in  his  shrill, 
eager  voice :  Vy  did  ve  vant  to  git  mixed  up  vit  them  European 
fights?  Didn't  ve  know  vat  bankers  and  capitalists  vere?  Vat 
difference  did  it  make  to  any  vorkingman  vether  he  vas  robbed 
from  Paris  or  Berlin?  "Sure,  I  know,"  said  Stankewitz,  "I 
vorked  in  both  them  cities,  and  I  vas  every  bit  so  hungry  under 
Rothschild  as  I  vas  under  the  Kaiser." 

Then  Comrade  Gerrity,  organiser  of  the  local,  took  his  turn. 
Whatever  they  did,  said  Gerrity,  they  must  keep  their  neutrality 
in  this  war;  the  one  hope  of  the  world  just  now  was  in  the 
Socialist  movement — that  it  would  preserve  ,the  international 
spirit,  and  point  a  war-torn  world  back  to  peace.  Especially 
just  now  in  Local  Leesville  they  must  keep  their  heads,  for  they 
were  beginning  the  most  important  move  in  their  history,  the 
establishment  of  a  weekly  paper.  Nothing  must  get  in  the  way 
of  that ! 

Yes,  said  Comrade  Service,  but  they  would  have  to  determine 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DEBATES  THE  ISSUE         27 

the  policy  of  the  paper,  would  they  not?  Were  they  going  to 
protest  against  injustice  at  home,  and  pay  no  attention  to  the 
most  flagrant  act  of  international  injustice  in  the  history  of  the 
world?  Was  a  workingman's  paper  to  say  nothing  against  the 
enslavement  of  the  workingmen  of  Europe  by  the  Kaiser  and  his 
militarist  crew?  He,  Dr.  Service,  would  wash  his  hands  of 
such  a  paper. 

And  then  the  members  of  the  local  gazed  at  one  another  in. 
dismay.  Every  man  and  woman  of  them  knew  that  the  pros- 
perous doctor  had  headed  the  list  of  subscribers  for  the  soon-to- 
be-born  Leesville  "Worker"  with  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dol- 
lars. The  thought  of  losing  this  munificent  contribution, 
brought  consternation  even  to  the  Germans ! 

But  there  was  one  member  of  the  local  whom  no  menace  ever 
daunted.  He  rose  up  now — lean,  sallow  almost  to  greenness, 
with  black  hair  falling  into  his  eyes,  and  a  cough  that  racked 
him  at  every  other  sentence.  Bill  Murray  was  his  name ;  "Wild 
Bill,"  the  papers  called  him.  The  red  card  he  carried  had 
been  initialled  by  the  secretaries  of  some  thirty  locals  all  over  the 
country.  He  had  lost  a  couple  of  toes  under  a  tractor-plough  in 
Kansas,  and  half  a  hand  in  a  tin-plate  mill  in  Alleghany  County ; 
he  had  been  clubbed  insensible  in  a  strike  in  Chicago,  and  tarred 
and  feathered  in  a  free  speech  fight  in  San  Diego.  And  now 
he  told  the  members  of  Local  Leesville  what  he  thought  of  those 
tea-party  revolutionists  who  pandered  to  the  respectability  of  a 
church-ridden  community.  "Wild  Bill"  had  watched  the  dis- 
cussions over  "Section  Six/'  the  provision  in  the  constitution  of 
the  party  against  sabotage  and  violence;  the  very  same  persons 
who  had  been  enthusiastic  for  that  bit  of  middle-class  fakery 
were  now  trying  to  line  up  the  local  for  the  defence  of  the  British 
sea-power !  What  the  hell  difference  did  it  make  to  any  work- 
ingman  whether  or  not  the  Kaiser  got  a  railroad  to  Bagdad? 
Of  course,  if  a  man  had  been  to  school  in  Britain,  and  had  a 
British  wife,  and  felt  himself  a  British  gentleman — you  could 
feel  the  shudder  that  went  through  the  gathering,  for  every  one 
knew  that  this  was  Dr.  Service — all  right,  let  that  man  take  the 
first  ship  across  the  ocean  and  enlist;  but  let  him  not  try  to 
turn  an  American  Socialist  local  into  a  recruiting-agency  for 
British  landlords  and  aristocrats. 

This  brought  to  his  feet  Comrade  Norwood,  the  young  lawyer 
who  had  helped  to  put  through  "Section  Six"  in  the  National 


28  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Convention  of  the  party.  If  there  were  people  so  keen  against 
this  Section,  why  couldn't  they  get  out  of  the  party  and  form 
an  organisation  of  their  own? 

"Because,"  answered  Murray,  "we  prefer  sabotage  to  strik- 
ing!" 

"In  other  words,"  continued  Norwood,  "you  stay  in  the  local, 
and  hy  a  campaign  of  sneering  and  personalities  you  drive  your 
opponents  out !" 

"This  is  the  first  meeting  for  some  months  that  we  have  had 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  Comrade  Norwood,"  said  "Wild  Bill," 
with  venomous  placidity.  "Perhaps  he  knew  that  we  were  to 
be  asked  to  raise  a  regiment  for  Kitchener !" 

And  then  again  Comrade  Stankewitz  was  on  his  feet,  with 
distress  in  his  thin,  eager  face.  "Comrades,  all  this  vill  not 
get  us  anyvere !  There  is  but  vun  question  ve  have  to  answer, 
are  ve  internationalists,  or  are  ve  not?" 

"It  seems  to  me,"  continued  Norwood,  "the  question  is,  are 
we  anti-nationalists  ?" 

"All  right!"  shrilled  the  little  Jew.  "I  vill  leave  it  so— I 
am  an  anti-nationalist!  Such  must  all  Socialists  be!" 

"But  I  don't  understand  it  so,"  declared  the  young  lawyer. 
"It  is  easy  for  some  who  belong  to  a  race  which  has  not  had 
a  country  for  two  thousand  years " 

"And  who's  dealing  in  personalities  now?"  sneered  "Wild 
BiH." 

ill 

So  matters  went  in  Local  Leesville.  The  upshot  of  the 
debate  was  that  Comrade  Dr.  Service  declared  that  he  washed 
his  hands  of  the  Socialist  Party  from  that  time  on.  And  the 
Comrade  Doctor  buttoned  his  handsome  black  coat  over  his 
stately  chest  and  stalked  out  of  the  room.  The  greater  part  of 
the  remainder  of  that  meeting  was  devoted  to  a  discussion  of 
him  and  his  personality  and  his  influence  in  the  local.  He  was 
no  Socialist  at  all,  declared  Schneider,  he  was  an  English  aris- 
tocrat, or  the  next  thing  to  it — his  wife  had  two  brothers  in  the 
British  Expeditionary  Force,  and  a  nephew  already  enlisted  in 
the  Territorials,  and  a  visiting  cousin  on  the  point  of  setting 
out  for  Canada,  as  the  quickest  way  of  getting  into  the  mix-up. 
But  in  spite  of  all  these  damaging  circumstances,  the  local  was 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DEBATES  THE  ISSUE         29 

not  disposed  to  give  up  its  most  generous  supporter,  and  Com- 
rade Gerrity,  the  organiser,  and  Comrade  Goldstein  of  the  Ypsels 
were  constituted  a  committee  to  go  and  plead  with  him  and  try 
to  bring  him  back  into  the  fold. 

As  for  Jimmie  Higgins,  his  problem  was  not  so  complicated. 
He  had  no  relatives  anywhere  that  he  knew  of;  and  if  he  had 
any  "country",  the  country  had  failed  to  make  him  aware  of  the 
fact.  The  first  thing  the  "country"  had  done  for  him  was  to 
put  him  into  the  hands  of  a  negro  woman  who  fed  him  gruel 
and  water  and  gave  him  no  blanket  in  winter.  To  Jimmie  this 
country  was  an  aggregation  of  owners  and  bosses,  who  made  you 
sweat  hard  for  your  wages,  and  sent  the  police  to  club  you  if 
you  made  any  kick.  A  soldier  Jimmie  thought  of  as  a  fellow 
who  came  to  help  the  police  when  they  got  hard  pushed.  This 
soldier  walked  with  his  chest  out  and  his  nose  in  the  air,  and 
Jimmie  referred  to  him  as  a  "tin  willie",  and  summed  him  up 
as  a  traitor  to  the  working  class. 

And  so  it  was  easy  for  our  little  machinist  to  agree  with  the 
Eoumanian  Jewish  cigar-seller  in  calling  himself  an  "anti-na- 
tionalist". It  was  easy  for  him  to  laugh  and  applaud  when 
"Wild  Bill"  demanded  what  the  hell  difference  it  made  to  any 
workingman  whether  or  not  the  Kaiser  got  a  railroad  to  Bag- 
dad. He  did  not  thrill  in  the  least  over  the  story  of  the  British 
army  falling  back  step  by  step  across  France,  and  holding  ten 
times  their  number  of  invaders.  The  papers  called  this  "hero- 
ism"; but  to  Jimmie  it  was  a  lot  of  poor  boobs  who  had  had  a 
flag  waved  in  their  eyes,  and  had  sold  themselves  for  a  shilling 
to  the  landlords  of  their  country.  In  one  of  the  Socialist  papers 
that  Jimmie  read,  there  appeared  every  week  a  series  of  comic 
pictures  in  which  the  workingman  was  figured  as  a  guileless  fool 
by  the  name  of  "Henry  Dubb".  Poor  Henry  always  believed 
what  he  was  told,  and  at  the  end  of  each  adventure  he  got  a 
thump  on  the  top  of  his  nut  which  caused  stars  to  sprout  over 
the  page.  And  of  all  the  many  adventures  of  Henry  Dubb,  the 
most  absurd  were  when  he  got  himself  into  a  uniform.  Jimmie 
would  cut  these  pictures  out  and  pass  them  round  in  the  shop, 
and  among  his  neighbours  in  the  row  of  tenement-shacks  where 
he  lived. 

Nor  did  it  make  much  difference  in  Jimmie's  feelings  when 
he  read  of  German  atrocities.  To  begin  with,  he  did  not  believe 
in  them ;  they  were  just  a  part  of  the  poison-gas  of  war.  When 


30  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

men  were  willing  to  stab  one  another  with  bayonets,  and  to  blow 
one  another  to  pieces  with  bombs,  they  would  be  willing  to  lie 
about  one  another,  you  might  be  sure ;  the  governments  would  lie 
deliberately,  as  one  of  the  ways  of  making  the  soldiers  fight 
harder.  What?  argued  Jimmie:  tell  him  that  Germans  were  a 
lot  of  savages  ?  When  he  lived  in  a  city  with  hundreds  of  them, 
and  met  them  all  the  time  at  the  local? 

Here,  for  instance,  was  the  Forster  family;  where  would  you 
find  a  kinder  lot  of  people  ?  They  were  much  above  Jimmie  in 
social  standing — they  owned  their  own  home,  and  had  whole 
shelves  full  of  books,  and  a  pile  of  music  as  high  as  yourself ;  but 
recently  Jimmie  had  stopped  on  a  Socialist  errand,  and  they  had 
invited  him  in  to  supper,  and  there  was  a  thin,  worn,  sweet-faced 
little  woman,  and  four  growing  daughters — nice,  gentle,  quiet 
girls — and  two  sons  younger  than  Emil;  they  had  a  pot-roast  of 
beef,  and  a  big  dish  of  steaming  potatoes,  and  another  of  sauer- 
kraut, and  some  queer  pudding  that  Jimmie  had  never  heard 
of;  and  then  they  had  music — they  were  fairly  dippy  on  music, 
that  family,  they  would  play  all  night  if  you  would  listen,  old 
Hermann  Forster  with  his  stout,  black-bearded  face  turned  up 
as  if  he  were  seeing  heaven.  And  you  wanted  Jimmie  to  believe 
that  a  man  like  that  would  carry  a  baby  on  a  bayonet,  or  rape 
a  girl  and  then  cut  off  her  hands ! 

Or  there  was  Comrade  Meissner,  a  neighbour  of  Jimmie's, 
a  friendly  little  chatter-box  of  a  man  who  was  foreman  in  charge 
of  a  dozen  women  from  as  many  different  races  of  the  earth, 
packing  bottles  in  the  glass-works.  The  tears  would  come  into 
Meissner's  pale  blue  eyes  when  he  told  how  he  was  made  to  drive 
these  women,  sick,  or  in  the  family  way,  or  whatever  it  might  be. 
And  remember,  it  was  an  American  superintendent  and  an 
American  owner  who  gave  Meissner  his  orders — not  a  German ! 
The  little  man  could  not  quit  his  job,  because  he  had  a  brood 
of  children  and  a  wife  with  something  the  matter  with  her — no- 
body could  tell  what  it  was,  but  she  took  all  kinds  of  patent 
medicines,  which  kept  the  family  poor.  Sometimes  Lizzie  Hig- 
gins  would  go  over  to  see  her,  and  the  two  would  sit  and  ex- 
change ideas  about  ailments  and  the  prices  of  food;  and  mean- 
time Meissner  would  come  over  to  where  Jimmie  was  minding 
the  Jimmie  babies,  and  the  two  would  puff  their  cobs  and  dis- 
cuss the  disputes  between  the  "politicians"  and  the  "direct  ac- 
tionists"  in  the  local.  And  you  wanted  Jimmie  to  believe  that 


JTMMIE  HIGGINS  DEBATES  THE  ISSUE         31 

men  like  Meissner  were  standing  old  Belgian  women  against  the 
walls  of  churches  and  shooting  them  full  of  bullets ! 


IV 

But  as  the  weeks  passed,  the  evidence  of  atrocities  began  to 
pile  in,  and  so  Jimmie  Higgins  was  driven  to  a  second  line  of 
defence.  Well,  maybe  so,  but  then  all  the  armies  were  alike. 
Somebody  told  Jimmie  the  saying  of  a  famous  general,  that  war 
was  hell;  and  Jimmie  took  to  this — it  was  exactly  what  he 
wanted  to  believe !  War  was  a  return  to  savagery,  and  the  worse 
it  became,  the  better  Jimmie's  argument  went.  He  was  not 
interested  in  men's  efforts  to  improve  war,  by  agreeing  that  they 
would  kill  in  this  way  but  not  in  that  way,  they  would  kill  this 
kind  of  people  but  not  that  kind. 

These  ideas  Jimmie  got  from  his  fellow  members  in  the  local, 
and  from  the  Socialist  papers  which  came  each  week,  and  from 
the  many  speakers  he  heard.  These  speakers  were  men  and 
women  of  burning  sincerity,  and  with  a  definite  and  entirely 
logical  point  of  view.  Whether  they  talked  about  war,  crime, 
prostitution,  political  corruption,  or  any  other  social  evil,  what 
they  wanted  was  to  tear  down  the  old  ramshackle  structure,  and 
to  put  in  its  place  something  new  and  intelligent.  You  might 
possibly  bring  them  to  admit  slight  differences  between  capitalist 
governments ;  but  when  it  came  to  a  practical  issue,  to  an  action, 
you  found  that  to  these  people  all  governments  were  alike — and 
never  so  much  alike  as  in  war-time ! 

Nor  was  there  ever  such  need  for  Socialist  protest!  Very 
quickly  it  became  apparent  that  it  was  not  going  to  be  an  easy 
matter  for  America  to  keep  out  of  this  world-vortex.  Because 
American  workingmen  did  not  get  a  living  wage,  and  could  not 
buy  what  they  produced,  there  was  a  surplus  product  which  had 
to  be  sold  abroad;  so  the  business  of  American  manufacturers 
depended  upon  foreign  markets — and  here  suddenly  were  all 
the  principal  trading  nations  of  the  world  plunging  in  to  buy 
all  the  American  products  they  could,  and  to  keep  their  enemies 
from  buying  any  at  all ! 

A  woman  speaker  came  to  Leesville,  a  shrewd  little  body  with 
a  sharp  tongue,  who  had  these  disputes  figured  out,  and  gave 
them  in  a  dialogue,  as  in  a  play.  Kaiser  Bill  says,  "I  want  cot- 
ton/' John  Bull  says,  "You  shan't  have  it"  Uncle  Sam  says, 


32  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

"But  he  has  a  right  to  have  it.  Get  out  of  the  way,  John  Bull." 
But  John  Bull  says,  "I  will  hold  up  your  ships  and  take  them 
into  my  ports."  Uncle  Sam  says,  "No,  no!  Don't  do  that!" 
But  John  Bull  does  it.  And  then  the  Kaiser  says,  "What  sort 
of  a  fellow  are  you,  to  let  John  Bull  steal  your  ships  ?  Are  you 
a  coward,  or  are  you  secretly  a  friend  of  this  old  villain  ?"  And 
Uncle  Sam  says,  "John  Bull,  give  me  my  German  mail,  and  my 
German  newspapers,  at  least/'  But  John  Bull  answers,  "You've 
got  a  lot  of  German  spies  in  your  country — that's  why  I  can't 
let  you  have  your  mail.  You  can't  have  German  papers  because 
the  Kaiser  fills  them  full  of  lies  about  me."  And  the  Kaiser 
says,  "If  John  Bull  won't  let  me  have  my  cotton  and  my  meat 
and  all  the  rest  of  it,  why  don't  you  stop  sending  anything  to, 
him  ?"  He  waits  a  while,  and  then  he  says :  "If  you  won't  stop 
sending  things  to  that  old  villain,  I'll  sink  the  ships,  that's  all." 
And  Uncle  Sam  cries,  "But  that's  against  the  law !"  "Whose 
law  ?"  says  the  Kaiser.  "What  sort  of  a  law  is  it  that  works  only 
one  way?"  "But  there  are  Americans  on  those  ships!"  cries 
Uncle  Sam.  "Well,  keep  them  off  the  ships!"  answers  the 
Kaiser.  "Keep  them  off  till  John  Bull  obeys  the  law." 

Put  in  this  way,  the  situation  was  easy  for  any  Jimmie  Hig- 
gins  to  understand;  and  month  by  month,  as  the  debate  con- 
tinued, Jimmie's  own  point  of  view  became  clearer.  He  was  not 
interested  in  sending  cotton  to  England,  and  still  less  in  send- 
ing meat.  He  thought  he  was  lucky  if  he  had  a  bit  of  meat 
twice  a  week  himself,  and  it  was  plain  enough  to  him  that  if  the 
fellows  who  owned  the  meat  were  not  allowed  to  ship  it  abroad, 
they  might  sell  it  in  America  at  a  price  that  a  workingman  could 
pay.  Nor  was  that  just  greediness  on  Jimmie's  part;  he  was 
perfectly  willing  to  go  without  meat  where  an  ideal  was  involved 
• — look  at  the  time  and  money  and  energy  he  gave  to  Socialism ! 
The  point  was  that  by  sending  goods  to  Europe,  you  helped  to 
keep  up  the  fighting;  whereas,  if  you  quit,  the  fools  must  come 
to  their  senses.  So  the  Jimmie  Higginses  worked  out  their  cam- 
paign-slogan:  "Starve  the  War  and  Feed  America!" 


In  the  third  month  of  the  war,  disturbing  rumours  began  to 
run  about  Leesville.  Old  Abel  Granitch  had  taken  on  a  contract 
with  the  Belgian  government,  and  the  Empire  Machine  Shops 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DEBATES  THE  ISSUE         33 

were  going  to  make  shells.  Nothing  appeared  about  this  in  the 
local  papers,  but  everybody  claimed  to  have  first-hand  knowledge, 
and  although  no  two  people  told  the  same  story,  there  must  be 
some  basis  of  truth  in  them  all.  And  then  one  day,  to  Jimmie's 
consternation,  he  heard  from  Lizzie  that  the  agent  of  the  land- 
lord had  called  and  served  notice  that  they  had  three  days  to 
vacate  the  premises.  Old  man  Granitch  had  bought  the  land, 
and  the  Shops  were  to  build  out  that  way.  Jimmie  could  hardly 
credit  his  ears,  for  he  was  six  city  blocks  from  the  nearest  part 
of  the  Shops;  but  it  was  true,  so  every  one  declared;  all  that 
land  had  been  bought  up,  and  half  a  thousand  families,  children 
and  old  people  and  sick  people,  men  on  their  death-beds  and 
women  in  child-birth — all  had  three  days  in  which  to  move  them- 
selves to  new  quarters. 

Let  any  one  imagine  the  confusion,  the  babel  of  tongues,  the 
women  on  their  porches  calling  to  one  another,  asking  and  giving 
advice!  The  denunciations  and  the  scoldings  and  the  threats 
to  resort  to  law !  The  raids  upon  landlords,  and  how  the  prices 
went  up !  Jimmie  hurried  off  to  Comrade  Meissner,  who  had 
bought  a  home  and  was  paying  instalments  on  it;  Meissner, 
being  a  Socialist,  did  not  try  to  gouge  him,  but  was  glad  to  have 
help  in  making  his  payments.  There  were  no  partitions  in  the 
garret  which  Jimmie  rented,  but  they  would  hang  curtains  and 
make  out  somehow,  and  Lizzie  would  use  Mrs.  Meissner's  stove 
until  they  could  get  something  fixed  upstairs.  And  then  to  the 
corner  grocery,  to  borrow  a  hand-cart  and  get  started  at  moving 
the  furniture;  for  to-morrow  everybody  would  be  moving,  and 
you.  would  not  be  able  to  get  anything  on  wheels  for  love  or 
money.  Until  after  midnight  Jimmie  and  Meissner  worked  at 
transporting  babies  and  bedding  and  sauce-pans  and  chairs  and 
chicken-coops  piled  on  the  hand-cart. 

And  next  morning  at  the  shop,  more  excitement!  It  was 
four  years  now  that  Jimmie  had  been  in  the  employ  of  old  man 
Granitch,  and  in  all  that  time  he  had  done  but  one  thing ;  stand- 
ing in  a  vast  room  amid  a  confusion  of  whirling  belts  and  wheels, 
a  roar  and  screech  and  grumble  and  whir  that  completely  an- 
nulled one  of  the  five  senses.  There  came  in  front  of  him, 
mechanically  propelled,  a  tray  full  of  small  oblong  blocks  of 
steel,  which  he  fed,  one  with  each  hand,  into  two  places  in  a 
machine;  the  machine  took  these  blocks,  and  rounded  off  one 
end,  and  ground  the  rest  a  little  smaller,  and  put  a  thread  on  it, 


S-i  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

and  it  dropped  into  a  tray  on  the  other  side,  a  bolt.  Because 
Jimmie  had  to  watch  the  machine,  and  keep  the  oil-cups  full, 
his  was  classed  as  semi-skilled  labour,  and  was  paid  nineteen  and 
a  half  cents  an  hour.  Some  time  ago  an  expert  had  studied  the 
process,  and  figured  that  with  labour  at  that  price  it  was  one- 
eighth  of  a  cent  per  hour  cheaper  to  have  the  work  done  by 
hand  than  to  install  a  machine  to  do  it;  and  so  for  four  years 
Jimmie  had  his  job,  standing  on  one  spot  from  seven  to  twelve, 
and  again  from  twelve-thirty  to  six,  and  carrying  home  every 
Saturday  night  the  sum  of  twelve  dollars  and  twenty-nine  cents. 
You  might  have  thought  that  the  huge  machine-works  would 
have  made  it  twelve-thirty  for  good  measure;  but  if  so,  you  do 
not  understand  large  scale  production. 

And  now,  all  of  an  instant  and  without  warning,  Jimmie's 
precisely  ordered  and  habitual  world  came  to  an  end.  He  was 
at  his  post  when  the  whistle  blew,  but  the  machinery  did  not 
move.  And  presently  came  the  Irish  foreman  with  the  curt 
announcement  that  the  machinery  would  never  move  again,  at 
least  not  on  that  spot;  it  was  to  be  cleared  out  of  the  way,  and 
new  machinery  set  up,  and  they  were  to  fall  to  forthwith  with 
wrenches  and  hammers  and  crow-bars  to  make  a  new  world ! 

So  for  a  week  they  did;  and  meantime,  every  night  as  he 
went  home,  Jimmie  saw  people's  homes  being  wrecked — roofs 
falling  in  clouds  of  dust,  and  gangs  of  men  loading  the  debris 
into  huge  motor-trucks.  Before  long  they  had  got  acetylene 
torches,  and  were  working  all  night — gangs  of  labourers  who 
lived  in  tents  on  vacant  lots  outside  the  city  and  kept  their 
canvas  cots  warm  with  double  shifts  of  sleepers.  Jimmie  Hig- 
gins  realised  the  dreadful  truth,  that  in  spite  of  all  the  agitation 
of  Socialists,  the  war  had  actually  come  to  Leesville ! 


CHAPTER  IV 

JIMMIE   HIGGINS   STRIKES  IT  RICH 


TT  was  some  time  before  Jimmie  understood  the  nature  of  the 
*•  new  machinery  he  was  helping  to  set  up.  It  was  nobody's 
business  to  explain,  for  he  was  only  a  pair  of  hands  and  a  strong 
back ;  he  was  not  supposed  to  be  a  brain — while  as  for  a  soul  or; 
a  conscience,  nobody  was  supposed  to  be  that.  Russian  agents 
had  come  to  Leesville  with  seventeen  millions  of  the  money 
which  the  Paris  bankers  had  put  up;  and  so  over-night  whole 
blocks  of  homes  were  swept  out  of  existence,  and  a  huge  new 
steel  structure  was  rising,  and  on  the  spot  where  for  four  years 
Jimmie  had  made  certain  motions  of  the  hands,  they  were  pre- 
paring to  manufacture  new  machinery  for  the  quantity  produc- 
tion of  shell-casings.  I 

When  Jimmie  had  definitely  learned  what  was  in  process,  he 
was  brought  face  to  face  with  a  grave  moral  problem.  Could  he, 
as  an  international  Socialist,  spend  his  time  making  shells  to  kill 
his  German  comrades?  Could  he  spend  his  time  making  the 
machinery  to  make  the  shells?  Would  he  take  the  bribe  of  old 
man  Granitch,  a  workingman's  share  of  the  hideous  loot — an 
increase  of  four  cents  an  hour,  with  the  prospect  of  another  four 
when  the  works  got  started?  Jimmie  had  to  meet  this  issue, 
just  when  it  happened  that  one  of  his  babies  was  sick,  and  he 
was  cudgelling  his  head  to  think  how  he  could  ever  squeeze  out 
of  his  scanty  wage  the  money  to  pay  the  doctor ! 

The  answer  was  easy  to  Comrade  Schneider,  the  stout  and 
sturdy  brewer,  who  stood  up  in  the  local  and  spoke  with  bitter 
scorn  of  those  Socialists  who  stayed  on  in  the  pay  of  that  old 
hell-devil  Granitch.  Schneider  wanted  a  strike  in  the  Empire 
Machine  Shops,  and  he  wanted  it  that  very  night!  But  then 
rose  Comrade  Mabel  Smith,  whose  brother  was  a  bookkeeper  for 

35 


36  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

the  concern.  It  was  all  very  well  for  Schneider  to  talk,  but  sup- 
pose some  one  were  to  demand  that  the  brewery-workers  should 
strike  and  refuse  to  make  beer  for  munition-workers  ?  That  was 
a  mere  quibble,  argued  Schneider;  but  the  other  denied  this, 
declaring  that  it  was  an  illustration  of  what  the  worker  was  up 
against,  with  no  control  of  his  own  destiny,  no  voice  as  to  what 
use  should  be  made  of  his  product.  A  man  might  say  that  he 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  munition-work,  and  go  out  into 
the  fields  as  a  farmer — to  raise  grain  to  be  shipped  to  the 
armies !  The  solidarity  of  capitalist  society  was  such  that  no- 
where could  a  man  find  work  that  would  not  in  some  way  be 
helping  to  kill  his  fellow-workers  in  other  lands. 

Jimmie  Higgins  talked  solemnly  to  Lizzie  of  moving  to  Hub- 
bardtown — tempted  thereto  by  the  signs  he  saw  in  an  agency 
which  had  been  set  up  in  a  vacant  store  on  Main  Street.  The 
Hubbard  Engine  Company  was  trying  to  steal  old  man  Gran- 
itch's  workers,  and  was  offering  thirty-two  cents  an  hour  for 
semi-skilled  labour !  Jimmie  made  inquiry  and  learned  that  the 
company  was  extending  its  plant  for  gas-engines;  for  what  pur- 
pose was  not  told,  but  men  suspected  that  the  engines  were  to  go 
into  motor-boats  and  be  used  for  the  sinking  of  submarines.  So 
Jimmie  decided  that  Comrade  Mabel  Smith  was  right ;  he  might 
as  well  stay  where  he  was.  He  would  take  as  much  money  as  he 
could  get  and  use  his  new-found  prosperity  to  make  trouble  for 
the  war-profiteers.  It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  Jimmie 
had  ever  been  free  from  money-fear.  He  could  now  get  a  job 
anywhere  at  good  wages,  and  so  he  did  not  care  a  hang  what 
the  boss  might  say.  He  would  talk  to  his  fellow-workers,  and 
explain  the  war  to  them :  a  war  of  the  capitalists  at  present,  but 
destined  perhaps  to  turn  into  another  land  of  war,  which  the 
capitalists  would  not  find  to  their  taste ! 

II 

It  was  wonderful,  incredible,  the  thing  which  had  befallen 
iteesville.  Full  of  hatred  for  the  system  as  Jimmie  Higgins 
was,  he  could  not  but  be  thrilled  by  what  he  saw.  Thousands  of 
men  pouring  into  the  once  commonplace  little  city — men  of  a 
score  of  races  and  creeds,  men  old  and  young,  white  and  black — 
even  a  few  yellow  ones !  It  was  a  boom  like  San  Francisco  in 
'49 ;  the  money  which  the  Paris  bankers  had  paid  to  the  Eussian 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  STRIKES  IT  RICH  37 

government,  and  which  the  Russian  government  had  paid  to  old 
man  Granitch,  spread  out  in  a  golden  flood  over  the  city.  The 
speculators  raised  the  price  of  land,  the  house-owners  raised 
rents,  the  hotels  doubled  their  prices,  and  even  so,  had  to  put 
people  to  bed  on  pool  tables !  Even  Tom  Callahan  of  the  "Buf- 
feteria"  had  to  hire  two  assistants,  and  build  an  extension,  and 
move  his  kitchen  into  the  back  yard. 

At  night  the  hordes  of  strangers  roamed  the  streets,  and 
Lipsky's  "Picture  Palace"  was  packed  to  the  doors,  and  the  "Bon 
Marche  Shoe  Store"  had  a  new  bankruptcy  sale  every  week,  and 
the  swinging  doors  of  the  saloons  were  never  still  for  hours  on 
end.  Of  course,  where  so  many  men  were  gathered,  there  came 
women — swarms  of  women  of  as  many  races  as  the  men.  Lees- 
ville  had  some  two  score  churches,  and  had  kept  hitherto  a  care- 
ful pretence  of  decency;  but  now  all  barriers  went  doVn,  the 
police-force  of  the  city  was  overwhelmed  by  the  new  population — 
or  was  it  by  the  golden  flood  from  Paris  by  way  of  Russia  ?  Any- 
way* y°u  saw  sights  on  Main  Street  which  confirmed  your  dis- 
trust of  war. 

Never  had  there  been  such  an  opportunity  for  Socialist  prop- 
aganda! All  these  hordes  of  men,  collected  from  the  ends  of 
the  earth,  torn  loose  from  home  ties,  from  religion,  from  old 
habits  of  every  sort,  thrown  together  promiscuously,  living  in 
any  old  way,  ready  for  any  old  thing  that  might  come  along !  In 
former  days  these  men  had  taken  what  was  handed  out  to  them 
by  their  newspaper  editors  and  preachers  and  politicians;  they 
had  engaged  in  commonplace  and  respectable  activities,  had 
lived  tame  and  unadventurous  lives.  But  now  they  were  making 
munitions;  and  you  might  say  what  you  pleased,  but  there  was 
a  certain  psychological  condition  incidental  to  the  making  of 
munitions.  An  employer  could  look  pious  and  talk  about  law 
and  order,  so  long  as  he  was  setting  his  men  to  hoeing  weeds  or 
shingling  roofs  or  grading  track;  but  what  could  he  say  to  his 
men  when  he  was  making  shells  to  be  used  in  blowing  men  to 
pieces  ? 

So  came  the  Socialist  and  the  Anarchist  and  the  Syndicalist 
and  the  Industrial  Unionist.  Look  at  these  masters,  look  at  this 
civilisation  they  have  produced !  In  the  world's  oldest  centres 
of  culture  ten  or  twenty  millions  of  wage-slaves  have  been  hurled 
together — and  then  the  Socialist  or  Anarchist  or  Syndicalist  or 
Industrial  Unionist  would  describe  in  detail  the  bloody  and 


38  .-,     JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

bestial  operations  which  these  ten  or  twenty  millions  of  men  were 
performing.  And  each  day's  papers  would  bring  fresh  details 
for  them  to  cite — famine  and  pestilence,  fire  and  slaughter, 
poison  gas,  incendiary  bombs,  torpedoed  passenger-ships.  Look 
at  these  pious  hypocrites,  the  masters,  with  their  refinement, 
their  culture,  their  religion !  These  are  the  people  you  are  asked 
to  follow,  it  is  for  such  as  these  that  you  have  been  chained  to 
the  machines  all  these  weary,  toil-crowded  years ! 


in 

On  every  street  corner,  in  every  meeting-room,  in  every  spot 
where  the  workers  gathered  at  the  noon  hour,  you  would  hear 
such  arguments;  and  you  would  find  men  listening  to  them — 
men  who  perhaps  had  never  listened  to  such  arguments  before. 
They  would  nod,  and  their  faces  would  become  grim — yes,  the 
people  up  on  top  must  be  a  rotten  lot !  Here  in  America,  sup- 
posed to  be  a  land  of  liberty  and  all  that — here  they  were  just 
the  same,  they  were  crowding  to  the  trough  to  drink  the  blood 
that  was  poured  out  in  Europe.  Of  course,  they  covered  their 
greed  with  a  camouflage  of  sympathy  for  the  Allies;  but  did 
anybody  believe  that  old  man  Granitch  loved  the  Russian  gov- 
ernment? Certainly  nobody  in  Leesville  did;  they  knew  that 
he  was  "getting  his/'  and  their  hearts  hardened  with  a  grim 
resolve  to  "get  theirs/5 

At  first  they  thought  they  were  succeeding.  Wages  went  up, 
almost  for  the  asking ;  never  did  the  unskilled  man  have  so  much 
money  in  his  pocket,  while  the  man  who  could  pretend  to  any 
skill  at  all  found  himself  in  the  plutocratic  class.  But  quickly 
men  discovered  the  worm  in  this  luscious  war-fruit ;  prices  were 
going  up  almost  as  fast  as  wages — in  some  places  even  faster. 
The  sums  you  had  to  pay  to  the  landlord  surpassed  belief;  a 
single  workingman  would  be  asked  two  or  three  dollars  a  week 
for  twelve  hours'  use  of  a  mattress  and  blanket,  which  in  the 
old  days  he  might  have  got  for  fifty  cents.  Food  was  scarce  and 
of  poor  quality;  before  long  you  found  yourself  being  asked  to 
pay  six  cents  for  a  hunk  of  pie  or  a  cup  of  coffee — and  then  seven 
cents,  and  then  ten.  If  you  kicked,  the  proprietor  would  tell 
you  a  long  tale  about  what  he  had  to  pay  for  rent  and  labour 
and  supplies ;  and  you  could  not  deny  that  he  was  probably  right. 
About  the  only  thing  that  did  not  go  up  was  a  postage-stamp; 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  STRIKES  IT  RICH  39 

and  the  Socialist  would  point  to  this  and  explain  that  the  Post 
Office  was  run  by  Uncle  Sam,  instead  of  by  Abel  Granitch ! 

Every  rise  in  price  was  a  fresh  stick  of  fuel  for  the  Socialist 
machine,  and  gave  new  power  to  their  propaganda  of  "Starve 
the  War  and  Feed  America!"  The  Socialist  saw  millions  of 
tons  of  goods  being  loaded  onto  steamships  and  sent  to  Europe 
to  be  destroyed  in  war;  he  saw  the  workers  of  Europe  becoming 
enslaved  by  a  bonded  debt  to  a  class  of  parasites  in  America,  he 
saw  America  being  drawn  closer  and  closer  to  the  abyss  of  the 
strife.  The  Socialist  loved  no  part  of  this  process.  He  clamoured 
for  an  embargo — not  merely  on  munitions,  but  on  food  and 
everything,  until  the  war-lords  of  Europe  came  to  their  senses. 
He  urged  the  workers  to  strike,  and  thus  force  the  politicians  to 
declare  the  embargo. 

Especially,  of  course,  he  urged  this  if  he  were  a  German  or 
an  Austrian,  a  Hungarian  or  a  Bohemian.  The  latter  were  sub- 
ject races,  but  they  could  not  in  these  early  days  see  beyond  the 
fact  that  their  fathers  and  brothers  and  cousins  were  being 
killed  by  the  shells  that  were  made  in  the  Empire  Machine 
Shops.  With  them  stood  also  the  Jews,  who  hated  the  Russian 
government  so  bitterly  that  nothing  else  mattered;  also  the 
Irish,  whose  first  idea  in  life  was  to  pay  back  John  Bull  for  his 
sins  of  several  centuries,  and  whose  second  idea  was  to  take  part 
in  any  sort  of  shivaree  that  was  going.  It  was  quite  bewilder- 
ing to  Jimmie  Higgins;  he  had  wrestled  with  Catholics  of  sev- 
eral nations  and  got  nothing  but  hard  words  for  his  pains,  but 
now  all  of  a  sudden  Tom  Callahan  of  the  "Buffeteria"  and  Pat 
Grogan  of  the  grocery  on  the  corner  made  the  discovery  that 
maybe  he  was  not  such  a  fool  after  all! 


IV 

As  a  result  of  this  ferment  among  the  workers,  the  local  had 
doubled  its  membership,  and  was  holding  soap-box  meetings  on 
a  corner  off  Main  Street  on  two  evenings  every  week.  The  plans 
for  the  weekly  paper,  however,  still  hung  fire.  Comrade  Dr. 
Service  had  lost  his  two  brothers-in-law — one  in  the  battle  of 
Mons,  and  the  other  in  the  first  frightful  gas-attack  at  Ypres, 
where  whole  regiments  of  men  were  caught  unprepared,  and  died 
in  awful  torments.  Also  two  of  his  wife's  cousins  had  paid  the 
price — one  was  blind,  and  the  other  a  prisoner  at  Ruhleben,  the 


40  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

worst  fate  of  all.  So  Dr.  Service  made  one  last  indignant  speech 
in  the  local,  and  took  his  five  hundred  dollars  to  start  a  chapter 
of  the  Red  Cross ! 

But  now  the  Germans  and  the  war-haters  in  the  local  were 
asking  themselves,  was  Socialism  to  languish  in  the  city  of  the 
Empire  Machine  Shops,  just  because  one  rich  man  with  an  Eng- 
lish wife  had  proved  a  renegade?  Such  a  question  answered 
itself!  The  work  of  collecting  subscription  lists  was  taken  up 
more  vigorously  than  ever;  and  already  more  than  half  the  lost 
five  hundred  had  been  made  up,  when  one  evening  John  Meissner 
came  home  with  a  most  amazing  story. 

It  was  his  custom  to  stop  at  SandkuhPs  for  one  glass  of  beer 
on  his  way  home  in  the  evening ;  and  when  anybody  in  the  saloon 
got  to  arguing  about  the  war,  he  would  take  his  chance  to  put  in 
a  little  propaganda.  This  time  he  had  made  a  regular  speech, 
declaring  that  the  workers  would  soon  put  an  end  to  the  muni- 
tion-business;  and  a  fellow  had  got  to  talking  with  him,  asking 
him  all  sorts  of  questions  about  himself,  and  about  the  local. 
How  many  members  did  it  have?  How  many  of  them  felt  as 
Meissner  did?  What  were  they  doing  about  it?  Pretty  soon 
the  man  had  drawn  Meissner  to  a  table  in  the  back  part  of  the 
place,  asking  about  the  proposed  paper,  and  what  its  policy  was 
to  be ;  also  about  the  unions  in  the  city,  and  their  policy,  and  the 
personalities  of  the  leaders. 

The  man  had  said  he  was  a  Socialist,  but  Meissner  did  not 
believe  him.  Meissner  thought  he  must  be  some  kind  of  union 
organiser.  There  had  been  talk  of  various  unions  making  an 
effort  to  break  into  the  domain  of  old  man  Granitch;  and,  of 
course,  there  was  always  the  I.  W.  W.  trying  to  break  in  every- 
where with  its  programme  of  the  "one  big  union." 

Meissner  went  on  to  tell  how  this  mysterious  stranger  had 
stated  to  him  that  it  would  be  possible  to  get  plenty  of  money  to 
back  the  proposition  of  a  strike  in  the  Empire  Shops.  The  new 
plant  was  just  ready  to  start  up,  and  fresh  swarms  of  men  were 
coming  in ;  what  was  wanted  was  some  live  fellows  to  get  in  with 
them  and  root  for  an  eight  hour  day  and  a  minimum  wage  scale 
of  sixty  cents  an  hour.  Men  who  were  willing  to  do  that  could 
get  good  money,  and  plenty  of  it;  if  the  Leesville  "Worker" 
would  advocate  such  a  policy,  there  was  no  reason  why  it  should 
not  start  up  the  very  next  week,  and  publish  a  big  edition  and 
flood  the  town.  The  one  essential  was  that  arrangements  should 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  STRIKES  IT  RICH  41 

be  made  secretly.  Meissner  must  trust  no  one  save  dyed-in-the- 
wool  "reds/'  who  would  be  willing  to  hustle,  and  not  say  where 
the  pay  came  from.  As  earnest  of  his  intentions,  the  stranger 
pulled  out  a  roll  of  bills,  and  casually  drew  off  half  a  dozen  and 
slipped  them  into  Meissner's  hands.  They  were  for  ten  dollars 
each — more  money  than  a  petty  boss  at  the  glass-works  had  ever 
got  into  his  hands  at  one  time  in  all  his  life ! 

Meissner  exhibited  the  roll,  and  Jimmie  stared  with  wide- 
open  eyes.  Here  indeed  was  a  new  development  of  the  war — 
ten  dollar  bills  for  Socialist  propaganda  to  be  picked  up  in  the 
back  rooms  of  saloons !  What  was  this  fellow's  name  ?  And 
where  did  he  hang  out?  Meissner  offered  to  take  Jimmie  to 
meet  him,  and  so  the  two  bolted  their  suppers  and  set  out  at 
top  speed. 


Jerry  Coleman  had  mentioned  several  saloons  where  he 
was  known,  and  in  one  of  these  they  found  him,  a  smooth- 
faced, smooth-spoken  young  fellow  whom  Jimmie  would  have 
taken  for  a  detective  or  "spotter" — having  had  dealings  with 
such  in  his  days  "on  the  road."  The  man  wore  good  clothes, 
and  his  finger-nails  were  cared  for,  something  which,  as  we 
know,  is  seldom  permitted  to  workingmen.  But  he  did  not  put 
on  airs,  and  he  bade  them  call  him  by  his  first  name.  He  talked 
to  Jimmie  a  while,  enough  to  make  sure  of  his  man,  and  then 
he  peeled  off  some  more  bills,  and  told  Jimmie  to  find  more 
fellows  who  could  be  trusted.  It  wouldn't  do  for  any  one  person 
to  have  too  much  money,  for  that  would  excite  suspicion;  but 
if  they  would  go  to  work  and  spend  that  much  for  dodgers  to 
be  distributed  among  the  munition-workers,  and  for  street- 
meetings,  and  for  the  proposed  radical  paper — well,  there  was 
plenty  more  money  in  the  place  where  this  had  come  from. 

Where  was  that  place?  Jimmie  asked;  and  Jerry  Coleman 
looked  wise  and  winked.  Then,  after  further  consideration,  he 
decided  it  might  be  well  to  tell  them,  provided  they  would  pledge 
themselves  not  to  mention  it  to  others  without  his  permission. 
This  pledge  they  gave,  and  Jerry  stated  that  he  was  a  national 
organiser  for  the  American  Federation  of  Labour,  which  had 
resolved  to  unionise  these  munition-plants,  and  to  establish  the 
eight  hour  day.  But  it  was  of  the  utmost  importance  that 


42  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

the  bosses  should  not  get  wind  of  the  matter;  it  must  not  be 
revealed  to  any  one  save  those  whom  Coleman  saw  fit  to  trust. 
He  was  trusting  Jimmie  and  Meissner,  and  they  might  know 
that  the  great  labour  organisation  was  behind  them,  and  would 
see  them  through,  regardless  of  expense.  Of  course,  it  would 
be  expected  that  they  would  use  the  money  honestly. 

"Gee!"  exclaimed  Jimmie.  "What  do  you  take  us  for?  A 
bunch  of  crooks?" 

No,  said  the  other,  he  was  not  such  a  poor  judge  of  character. 
And  Jimmie  remarked  grimly  that  anybody  who  was  looking 
for  easy  money  did  not  go  into  the  business  of  Socialist  agita- 
tion. If  there  was  anything  a  Socialist  could  boast  of,  it  was 
that  their  workers  and  elected  officials  never  touched  any  graft. 
Mr.  Coleman — that  is,  Jerry — would  be  handed  a  receipt  for 
every  dollar  they  spent. 

It  chanced  that  that  same  night  there  was  a  meeting  of  the 
Propaganda  Committee  of  the  local,  which  consisted  of  half 
a  dozen  of  the  most  active  members.  Jimmie  and  Meissner 
hurried  to  this  place,  with  their  new-found  wealth  burning  a 
hole  in  their  pockets.  They  informed  the  committee  that  they 
had  been  collecting  money  for  the  propaganda  fund,  and  pro- 
duced before  the  eyes  of  the  astounded  comrades  the  sum  of  one 
hundred  dollars. 

It  happened  that  the  chairman  of  the  committee  had  just 
received  from  the  National  Office  of  the  party  in  Chicago  a 
sample  of  a  new  leaflet  entitled  "Feed  America  First";  this 
leaflet  could  be  had  in  quantities  for  a  very  low  price,  a  dol- 
lar or  two  per  thousand;  as  a  result  of  Jimmie' s  contribution, 
a  telegram  was  sent  for  ten  thousand  of  the  leaflets  to  be  shipped 
by  express.  And  then  there  was  a  proposition  from  the  state 
office,  for  Comrade  Seaman,  author  of  a  book  against  war,  to 
speak  every  night  for  two  weeks  in  Leesville.  The  local  had 
voted  to  turn  down  this  proposition  for  lack  of  funds ;  but  now, 
with  the  new  contributions,  the  propaganda  committee  felt  equal 
to  the  fifty  dollars  involved.  And  then  there  was  the  idea  of 
Comrade  Gerrity,  the  organiser,  who  was  conducting  street 
meetings  every  Wednesday  and  Saturday  nights;  if  he  could 
have  an  assistant,  at  fifteen  a  week,  the  soap-boxing  could  go 
on  every  night.  John  Meissner  here  put  in — he  was  sure  that 
contributions  could  be  got  for  that  purpose,  provided  the  decision 
was  made  without  delay.  So  the  decision  was  made. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  STRIKES  IT  RICH  43 


VI 

The  meeting  was  adjourned,  and  then  Meissner  and  Jimmie 
went  into  conference  with  Gerrity,  the  organiser,  and  Schneider, 
the  brewer,  and  Comrade  Mary  Allen,  all  three  of  whom  hap- 
pened to  be  on  the  committee  entrusted  with  the  affairs  of  the 
"Worker."  Jimmie  explained  that  they  had  met  a  union  or- 
ganiser— they  could  not  tell  about  him,  but  the  committee  would 
have  a  chance  to  meet  him — who  would  put  up  the  balance  of 
the  money  needed,  provided  that  the  paper  would  be  willing  to 
call  at  once  for  a  strike  of  the  Empire  employes.  Could  that 
promise  be  made  ?  And  Comrade  Mary  Allen  laughed,  indicat- 
ing her  scorn  for  anybody  who  could  cherish  a  doubt  on  that 
question !  Comrade  Mary  was  a  Quaker ;  she  loved  all  mankind 
with  religious  fervour — and  it  is  astonishing  how  bitter  people 
can  become  in  the  cause  of  universal  love.  Her  sharp,  pale  face 
flushed,  and  her  thin  lips  set,  as  she  answered  that  the  "Worker" 
would  most  surely  fight  the  war-profiteers,  so  long  as  she  was 
on  the  managing  committee! 

It  was  finally  decided  that  Comrade  Mary  should  call  on 
Jerry  Coleman  in  the  morning,  and  satisfy  herself  that  he  really 
meant  business;  if  so,  she  would  get  the  full  committee  to- 
gether on  the  following  evening.  The  committee  had  authority 
to  go  ahead,  as  soon  as  the  necessary  fund  was  made  up,  so  if 
Coleman  was  all  right,  there  was  no  reason  why  the  first  issue 
of  the  paper  should  not  appear  next  week.  Comrade  Jack 
Smith,  a  reporter  on  the  "Herald,"  the  capitalist  paper  of  Lees- 
ville,  was  to  resign  and  become  editor  of  the  "Worker,"  and  he 
already  had  his  editorials  written — had  been  showing  them  about 
in  the  local  for  the  past  month ! 

Jimmie  and  Meissner  set  out  for  home,  happy  in  the  feeling 
that  they  had  accomplished  more  for  Socialism  on  that  one  night 
than  in  all  the  rest  of  their  lives.  But  then,  as  they  walked, 
there  came  suddenly  a  clamour  of  bells  on  the  night  air ;  a  fire ! 
They  knew  the  signals,  and  counted  the  strokes,  and  made  the 
discovery  that  it  was  in  the  neighbourhood  of  their  own  home ! 
An  engine  went  by  on  the  gallop,  with  sparks  streaming  out 
behind,  and  they  broke  into  a  run.  Before  they  had  gone  a 
couple  of  blocks,  they  saw  a  glare  in  the  sky,  and  their  hearts 
were  in  their  throats ;  poor  Meissner  panted  that  he  had  neglected 
to  pay  his  last  month's  insurance ! 


44  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

But  as  they  ran,  in  the  ever-growing  throng  of  people,  they 
realised  that  the  fire  was  too  near  for  their  own  home;  also, 
it  was  a  bigger  blaze  than  could  have  been  made  by  any  number 
of  shacks.  And  presently  there  were  shouts  in  the  crowd,  "It's 
the  Empire !  The  Old  Shops  I"  There  came  a  hook  and  ladder 
truck,  rushing  by  with  shrieking  siren,  and  then  the  fire-chief 
in  his  automobile  with  a  fiercely  clanging  bell ;  they  turned  the 
corner,  and  far  down  the  street  before  them  was  the  building 
in  which  for  four  years  Jimmie  had  tended  the  bolt-making 
machine.  They  saw  that  one  whole  end  of  it  was  a  towering, 
leaping,  sweeping  pillar  of  flames ! 


CHAPTER  IV 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS   HELPS  THE  KAISER 


TIMMIE  HIGGINS  regarded  with  the  utmost  resentment  the 
**  determination  of  the  war  to  come  to  Leesville,  in  spite  of 
all  his  labours  to  keep  it  out.  Take  the  most  preposterous  thing 
you  could  imagine — the  most  idiotic  thing  on  the  face  of  the 
earth — take  German  spies !  When  Jimmie  heard  people  talking 
about  German  spies,  he  laughed  in  their  faces,  he  told  them 
they  were  a  bunch  of  boobs,  they  belonged  in  the  nursery;  for 
Jimmie  classed  German  spies  with  goblins,  witches  and  sea- 
serpents.  And  here  suddenly  the  bewildered  little  man  found 
himself  in  the  midst  of  a  German  spy  mania,  the  like  of  which 
he  could  never  have  dreamed ! 

Everybody  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  that  the  Empire 
Machine  Shops  had  been  burned  by  German  agents;  they  just 
knew  it,  and  by  the  time  the  fire  was  out  they  had  a  hundred 
various  stories  to  support  their  conviction.  The  fire  had  leaped 
from  place  to  place  in  a  series  of  explosions ;  the  watchman,  who 
had  passed  through  the  building  only  two  minutes  before,  had 
rushed  back  and  seen  blazing  gasoline,  and  had  almost  lost  his 
life  in  the  sweep  of  the  flames.  And  next  morning  the  Lees- 
ville "Herald"  was  out  with  letters  half  a  foot  high,  telling  these 
tales  and  insisting  that  the  plant  had  been  full  of  German  agents, 
disguised  as  workingmen. 

Before  the  day  was  by  the  police  had  arrested  a  dozen  per- 
fectly harmless  German  and  Austrian  labourers;  at  least  that 
was  the  way  it  seemed  to  Jimmie,  because  of  the  fact  that  two 
of  the  men  were  members  of  the  Socialist  local.  Somebody  told 
Mrs.  Meissner  that  all  the  Germans  in  Leesville  were  to  be 
arrested,  and  the  poor  woman  was  trembling  with  terror.  She 
wanted  her  husband  to  run  away,  but  Jimmie  persuaded  them 
that  this  would  be  the  worst  possible  course;  so  Meissner  stayed 

45 


46  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

in  the  house,  and  Jimmie  kept  his  mouth  shut  for  three  whole 
days — an  extraordinary  feat  for  him,  and  a  trial  more  severe 
than  being  in  jail. 

He  had  lost  his  job — forever,  he  thought.  But  in  this  again 
he  misjudged  the  forces  which  had  taken  his  life  in  their  grip — 
the  power  of  the  gold  which  had  come  to  Leesville  by  way  of 
Eussia.  The  day  after  the  fire  he  received  word  to  report  for 
work  again ;  old  man  Granitch  was  so  anxious  to  keep  his  work- 
ers out  of  the  clutches  of  the  Hubbard  Engine  Company  that 
he  put  them  all,  skilled  and  unskilled,  at  the  job  of  clearing 
away  the  debris  of  the  fire !  And  five  days  later  came  the  first 
carloads  of  new  material,  brought  on  motor-trucks,  and  the 
rebuilding  of  the  Empire  Shops  began.  Would  you  believe  it — 
some  of  the  machinery  which  had  not  been  damaged  too  much 
in  the  fire  was  fixed  up,  and  at  the  end  of  a  couple  of  weeks 
was  starting  up  again,  covered  by  a  temporary  canvas  shelter, 
and  with  the  walls  of  the  new  building  rising  round  it. 

That  was  the  kind  of  thing  which  made  America  the  marvel 
of  the  world.  It  had  made  old  man  Granitch  young  again,  peo- 
ple said ;  he  worked  twenty  hours  a  day  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  and 
the  increase  in  his  profanity  was  appalling.  Even  Lacey 
Granitch,  his  dashing  son,  quitted  the  bright  lights  of  Broad- 
way and  came  home  to  help  the  old  man  keep  his  contracts. 
The  enthusiasm  for  these  contracts  became  as  it  were  the  re- 
ligion of  Leesville ;  it  spread  even  to  the  ranks  of  labour,  so  that 
Jimmie  found  himself  like  a  man  in  a  surf,  struggling  to  keep 
his  feet  against  an  undertow. 


II 

The  plans  for  the  "Worker"  were  delayed,  for  the  reason 
that  when  Comrade  Mary  Allen,  the  Quaker,  went  to  look  for 
Jerry  Coleman  the  day  after  the  fire,  that  dispenser  of  ten  dollar 
bills  had  mysteriously  disappeared.  It  was  a  week  before  he 
showed  up  again;  and  meantime  fresh  events  had  taken  place, 
both  in  the  local  and  outside.  To  begin  with  the  latter,  as 
presumably  the  more  important :  an  English  passenger  liner,  the 
pride  of  the  Atlantic  fleet,  loaded  to  the  last  cabin  with  Ameri- 
can millionaires,  was  torpedoed  without  warning  by  a  German 
submarine.  More  than  a  thousand  men,  women  and  children 
went  down,  and  the  deed  sent  a  shudder  of  horror  through  the 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  HELPS  THE  KAISER         47 

civilised  world.  At  the  meeting  of  Local  Leesville,  which  hap- 
pened to  take  place  the  evening  afterward,  it  proved  a  difficult 
matter  to  get  business  started. 

The  members  stood  about  and  argued.  What  could  you  say 
about  a  government  that  ordered  a  crime  like  that  ?  What  could 
you  say  about  a  naval  officer  who  would  carry  out  such  an  order  ? 
Thus  Comrade  Norwood,  the  young  lawyer;  and  Schneider,  the 
brewer,  answered  that  the  German  government  had  done  every- 
thing that  any  reasonable  man  could  ask.  It  had  published  a 
notice  in  the  New  York  papers,  to  the  effect  that  the  vessel  was 
subject  to  attack,  and  that  any  one  who  travelled  on  her  would 
do  so  at  his  peril.  If  women  and  children  would  ride  on  muni- 
tion-ships  

"Munition-ships?"  cried  Norwood;  and  then  Schneider 
pointed  to  a  news-despatch,  to  the  effect  that  the  Lwitania  had 
had  on  board  a  shipment  of  cartridge-cases. 

"A  fine  lot  of  munitions  I"  jeered  the  lawyer. 
Well,  was  the  reply,  what  were  cartridge-cases  for,  if  not  to 
kill  Germans?  The  Germans  had  been  attacked  by  the  whole 
world,  and  they  had  to  defend  themselves.  When  you  looked 
at  Comrade  Schneider,  you  saw  a  man  who  felt  himself  attacked 
by  the  whole  world ;  his  face  was  red  up  to  the  roots  of  his  hair, 
and  he  was  ready  to  defend  himself  with  any  weapon  he  could 
get  hold  of. 

Comrade  Koeln,  a  big  glass-blower,  broke  into  the  discus- 
sion. The  German  government  was  authority  for  the  statement 
that  the  Lusitania  had  been  armed  with  guns.  And  when 
Norwood  hooted  at  this,  every  German  in  the  room  was  up 
in  arms.  What  did  he  have  to  disprove  it?  The  word  of  the 
British  government !  Was  not  "perfidious  Albion"  a  bye-word  I 

"The  thing  that  beats  me,"  declared  the  young  lawyer,  "is 
the  way  you  Germans  stand  up  for  the  Kaiser  now,  when  before 
the  war  you  couldn't  find  enough  bad  things  to  say  about  him." 

"What  beats  me,"  countered  Schneider,  "is  how  you  Ameri- 
cans stand  up  for  King  George.  Every  newspaper  in  Wall 
Street  howling  for  America  to  go  into  the  war — yust  because 
some  millionaires  got  killed !" 

"You  don't  seem  to  realise  that  the  greater  number  of  the 
men  who  lost  their  lives  on  that  ship  were  workingmen !" 

"Ho!  Ho!"  hooted  Comrade  Stankewitz.  "Vail  Street 
loves  so  the  vorkingmen !" 


48  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Comrade  Mary  Allen,  who  loved  all  men,  took  up  the  argu- 
ment. If  those  workingmen  had  been  killed  in  a  mine  disaster, 
caused  by  criminal  carelessness  and  greed  for  profits;  if  they 
had  died  of  some  industrial  disease  which  might  easily  have  been 
prevented;  if  they  had  been  burned  in  a  factory  without  fire- 
escapes — nobody  in  Wall  Street  would  have  wanted  to  go  to  war. 
And,  of  course,  every  Socialist  considered  this  was  true;  every 
Socialist  saw  quite  clearly  that  the  enormity  of  the  Lusitania 
sinking  lay  in  the  fact  that  it  had  reached  and  injured  the  privi- 
leged people,  the  people  who  counted,  who  got  their  names  in 
the  papers  and  were  not  supposed  to  be  inconvenienced,  even  by 
war.  So  it  was  possible  for  Jimmie  Higgins,  even  though 
shocked  by  what  the  Germans  had  done,  to  be  irritated  by  the 
fuss  which  the  Wall  Street  newspapers  made. 

Young  Emil  Forster  spoke,  and  they  listened  to  him,  as  they 
always  did.  It  was  a  quarrel,  he  said — and  as  usual  in  quarrels, 
both  sides  had  their  rights  and  wrongs.  You  had  to  balance  a 
few  English  and  American  babies  against  the  millions  of  Ger- 
man babies  which  the  British  government  intended  to  starve. 
It  was  British  sea-power  maintaining  itself — and  of  course  con- 
trolling most  of  the  channels  of  publicity.  It  appealed  to  what 
it  called  "law" — that  is  to  say,  the  customs  it  had  found  con- 
venient in  the  past.  British  cruisers  were  able  to  visit  and  search 
vessels,  and  to  take  off  their  crews;  but  submarines  could  not 
do  that,  so  what  the  British  clamour  about  "law"  amounted  to 
was  an  attempt  to  keep  Germany  from  using  her  only  weapon. 
After  all,  ask  yourself  honestly  if  it  was  any  worse  to  drown  peo- 
ple quickly  than  to  starve  them  slowly. 

And  then  came  "Wild  Bill."  This  wrangling  over  German 
and  British  gave  him  a  pain  in  the  guts.  Couldn't  they  see, 
the  big  stiffs,  that  they  were  playing  the  masters'  game  ?  Quar- 
relling among  themselves,  when  they  ought  to  be  waking  up 
the  workers,  getting  ready  for  the  real  fight.  And  wizened-up 
little  Stankewitz  broke  in  again — that  vas  vy  he  hated  var,  it 
divided  the  vorkers.  There  vas  nothing  you  could  say  for 
var.  But  "Wild  Bill"  smiled  his  crooked  smile.  There  were 
several  things  you  could  say.  War  gave  the  workers  guns,  and 
taught  them  to  use  them;  how  would  it  be  if  some  day  they 
turned  these  guns  about  and  fought  their  own  battles? 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  HELPS  THE  KAISER         49 


in 

Comrade  Gerrity  now  took  the  chair  and  made  an  effort  to 
get  things  started.  The  minutes  of  the  last  meeting  were  read-, 
new  members  were  voted  on,  and  then  Comrade  Mary  Allen  rose 
to  report  for  the  "Worker"  committee.  The  fund  had  been  com- 
pleted, the  first  number  of  the  paper  was  to  appear  next  week, 
and  it  was  now  up  to  every  member  of  the  local  to  get  up  on 
his  toes  and  hustle  as  never  in  his  life  before.  Comrade  Mary, 
with  her  thin,  eager  face  of  a  religious  zealot,  made  every  one 
share  her  fervour. 

All  save  Lawyer  Norwood.  Since  the  retirement  of  Dr. 
Service  he  was  the  chief  pro-ally  trouble-maker,  and  he  now 
made  a  little  speech.  He  had  been  agreeably  surprised  to  learn 
that  the  money  had  been  raised  so  quickly ;  but  then  certain  un- 
comfortable doubts  having  occurred  to  him,  he  had  made  in- 
quiries and  found  there  was  some  mystery  about  the  matter.  It 
was  stated  that  the  new  paper  was  to  demand  a  general  strike 
in  the  Empire ;  and  of  course  everybody  knew  there  were  power- 
ful and  sinister  forces  now  interested  in  promoting  strikes  in 
munition-factories. 

"Wild  Bill"  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant.  Had  the  com- 
rade any  objection  to  munition-workers  demanding  the  eight 
hour  day? 

"No,"  said  Norward,  "of  course  not ;  but  if  we  are  going  into 
a  fight  with  other  people,  we  surely  ought  to  know  who  they 
are  and  what  their  purpose  is.  I  have  been  informed — there 
seems  to  be  a  little  hesitation  in  talking  about  it — that  a  lot  of 
money  has  been  put  up  by  one  man,  and  nobody  knows  who 
that  man  is." 

"He's  an  organiser  for  the  A.  F.  of  L. !"  The  voice  was 
Jimmie's.  In  his  excitement  the  solemn  pledge  of  secrecy  was 
entirely  forgotten ! 

"Indeed!"  said  Norward.     "What  is  his  name?" 

Nobody  answered. 

"Has  he  shown  his  credentials  ?"    Again  silence. 

"Of  course  I  don't  need  to  tell  men  as  familiar  with  union 
affairs  as  the  comrades  here  that  every  bona-fide  organiser  for 
a  union  carries  credentials.  If  he  does  not  produce  them,  it  is 
at  least  occasion  for  writing  to  the  organisation  and  finding  out 
about  him.  Has  anybody  done  that?" 


50  JIMMIB  HIGGINS 

Again  there  was  silence. 

"I  don't  want  to  make  charges,"  said  Norwood 

"Oh,  no !"  put  in  "Wild  Bill."  "You  only  want  to  make 
insinuations  I" 

"What  I  want  to  do  is  merely  to  make  sure  that  the  local 
knows  what  it  is  doing.  It  is  no  secret  anywhere  in  Leesville 
that  money  is  being  spent  to  cause  trouble  in  the  Empire.  No 
doubt  this  money  has  passed  through  a  great  many  hands  since 
it  left  the  Kaiser's,  but  we  may  be  sure  that  his  hands  are  guid- 
ing it  to  its  final  end." 

And  then  what  an  uproar !  "Shame !  Shame !"  cried  some ; 
and  others  cried,  "Bring  your  proofs!"  The  "wild"  members 
shouted,  "Put  him  out !"  They  had  long  wanted  to  get  rid  of 
Norwood,  and  this  looked  to  be  their  chance. 

But  the  young  lawyer  stood  his  ground  and  gave  them  shot 
for  shot.  They  wanted  proofs,  did  they?  Suppose  they  had 
learned  of  a  capitalist  conspiracy  to  wreck  the  unions  in  the 
city ;  and  suppose  that  the  Leesville  "Herald"  had  been  clamour- 
ing for  "proofs" — what  would  they  have  thought  ? 

"In  other  words,"  shouted  Schneider,  "you  know  it's  true, 
yust  because  it's  Yermany !" 

"I  know  it's  true,"  said  Norwood,  "because  it  would  help 
Germany  to  win  the  war.  One  doesn't  have  to  have  any  other 
evidence — if  a  certain  thing  will  help  Germany  to  win  the  war, 
one  knows  that  thing  is  being  done.  All  you  Germans  know 
that,  and  what's  more,  you're  proud  of  it;  it's  your  efficiency, 
that  you  boast." 

Again  there  was  a  cry  of  "Shame!  Shame!"  But  the  cry 
came  from  Comrade  Mary,  the  Quaker  lady,  and  it  was  evident 
that  she  had  expected  a  chorus,  and  was  disconcerted  at  being 
alone. 

Young  Norwood,  who  knew  his  Germans,  laughed  scornfully. 
"Just  now  your  government  is  selling  bonds  in  America,  sup- 
posed to  be  for  the  benefit  of  the  families  of  the  dead  and 
wounded.  Some  of  those  bonds  have  been  taken  in  this  city, 
as  I  happen  to  know.  Does  anybody  really  believe  the  money 
will  reach  the  families  of  the  dead  and  wounded  ?" 

This  time  the  Germans  answered.  "I  belief  it!"  roared 
€omrade  Koeln.  "And  I !  And  I !"  shouted  others. 

"That  money  is  staying  right  here  in  Leesville !"  proclaimed 
the  lawyer.  "It  is  preparing  a  strike  in  the  Empire!" 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  HELPS  THE  KAISER          51 

A  dozen  men  wanted  the  floor  at  once.  Schneider,  the 
brewer,  got  it,  for  the  reason  that  he  could  outbellow  any  one 
else.  "What  does  the  comrade  want?"  he  demanded.  "Is  he 
not  for  the  eight  hour  day?" 

"Has  he  got  any  of  old  man  Graniteh's  money?"  shrilled 
"Wild  Bill."  "Or  maybe  he  doesn't  know  that  Granitch  is 
spending  money  to  get  smart  young  lawyers  to  help  keep  his 
munition-slaves  at  work  ?" 


IV 

Norwood,  having  thrown  the  fat  into  the  fire,  sat  down  for 
a  while  and  let  it  blaze.  When  the  Germans  taunted  him  with 
being  afraid  to  say  what  he  really  meant — that  the  local  should 
oppose  the  demand  for  the  eight  hour  day — he  merely  laughed 
at  them.  He  had  wanted  to  make  them  show  themselves  up,  and 
he  had  done  it.  Not  merely  were  they  willing  to  do  the  work 
of  the  Kaiser-— they  were  willing  to  take  the  Kaiser's  pay  for 
doing  it! 

"Take  his  pay?"  cried  "Wild  Bill."  "I'd  take  the  devil's 
pay  to  carry  on  Socialist  propaganda !" 

Old  Hermann  Forster  rose  and  spoke,  in  his  gentle,  senti- 
mental voice.  If  it  were  true  that  the  Kaiser  was  paying  money 
for  such  ends,  he  would  surely  find  he  had  bought  very  little. 
There  were  Socialists  in  Germany,  one  must  remember 

And  then  came  a  shrill  laugh.  Those  tame  German  Social- 
ists !  It  was  Comrade  Claudel,  a  Belgian  jeweller,  who  spoke. 
Would  any  rabbit  be  afraid  of  such  revolutionists  as  them  ?  Eat- 
ing out  of  the  Kaiser's  hand — having  their  papers  distributed 
in  the  trenches  for  government  propaganda !  Talk  to  a  Belgian 
about  German  Socialists! 

So  you  saw  the  European  national  lines  splitting  Local 
Leesville  in  two :  on  the  one  side  the  Germans  and  the  Austrians, 
the  Eussian  Jews,  the  Irish  and  the  religious  pacifists;  on  the 
other  side  two  English  glass-blowers,  a  French  waiter,  and  sev- 
eral Americans  who,  because  of  college-education  or  other  snob- 
bish weakness,  were  suspected  of  tenderness  for  John  Bull.  Be- 
tween these  extreme  factions  stood  the  bulk  of  the  membership, 
listening  bewildered,  trying  to  grope  their  way  through  the 
labyrinth. 

It  was  no  easy  job  for  these  plain  fellows,  the  Jimmie  Hig- 


52  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

genses.  When  they  tried  to  think  the  matter  out,  they  were 
almost  brought  to  despair.  There  were  so  many  sides  to  the 
question — the  last  fellow  you  met  always  had  a  better  argument 
than  any  one  you  had  heard  before!  You  sympathised  with 
Belgium  and  France,  of  course;  but  could  you  help  hating  the 
British  ruling  classes?  They  were  your  hereditary  enemies — 
your  school-book  enemies,  so  to  speak.  And  they  were  the  ones 
you  knew  most  about;  since  every  American  jack-ass  that  got 
rich  quick  and  wanted  to  set  himself  up  above  his  fellows  would 
proceed  to  get  English  clothes  and  English  servants  and  Eng- 
lish bad  manners.  To  the  average  plain  American,  the  word 
English  stood  for  privilege,  for  ruling  class  culture,  the  things 
established,  the  things  against  which  he  was  in  rebellion;  Ger- 
many was  the  I.  W.  W.  among  the  nations — the  fellow  who  had 
never  got  a  chance  and  was  now  hitting  out  for  it.  Moreover, 
the  Germans  were  efficient;  they  took  the  trouble  to  put  their 
case  before  you,  they  cared  what  you  thought  about  them; 
whereas  the  Englishman,  damn  him,  turned  up  his  snobbish 
nose,  not  caring  a  whoop  what  you  or  anybody  might  think. 

Moreover,  in  this  controversy  the  force  of  inertia  was  on  the 
German  side,  and  inertia  is  a  powerful  force  in  any  organisa- 
tion. What  the  Germans  wanted  of  American  Socialists  was 
simply  that  they  should  go  on  doing  what  they  had  been  doing 
all  their  lives.  And  the  Socialist  machine  had  been  set  up 
for  the  purpose  of  going  on,  regardless  of  all  the  powers  on 
earth,  in  the  heavens  above  the  earth,  or  in  hell  beneath.  Ask 
Jimmie  Higgins  to  stop  demanding  higher  wages  and  the  eight 
hour  day !  Wouldn't  anybody  in  his  senses  know  what  Jimmie 
would  answer  to  that  proposition  ?  Go  chase  yourself ! 


But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted  that  Jimmie  was 
staggered  by  the  idea  that  he  might  be  getting  into  the  pay 
of  the  Kaiser.  It  was  true  that  the  traditions  of  the  Socialist 
movement  were  German  traditions,  but  they  were  German  anti- 
Government  traditions:  Jimmie  regarded  the  Kaiser  as  the 
devil  incarnate,  and  the  bare  idea  of  doing  anything  the  Kaiser 
wanted  done  was  enough  to  make  him  stop  short.  He  could 
see  also  what  a  bad  thing  it  would  be  for  the  movement  to 
have  any  person  believe  that  it  was  taking  the  Kaiser's  money. 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  HELPS  THE  KAISER          53 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  a  report  of  this  evening's  discussion 
should  reach  the  "Herald"!  And  with  the  public  inflamed  to 
madness  over  the  Lusitania  affair ! 

After  the  discussion  had  proceeded  for  an  hour  or  so,  Nor- 
wood made  a  motion  to  the  effect  that  the  "Worker"  committee 
should  be  instructed  to  investigate  thoroughly  the  sources  of 
all  funds  contributed,  and  to  reject  any  that  did  not  come  from 
Socialists,  or  those  in  sympathy  with  Socialism.  The  common- 
sense  of  the  meeting  asserted  itself,  and  even  the  Germans  voted 
for  this  motion.  Sure,  .let  them  go  ahead  and  investigate !  The 
Socialist  movement  was  clean,  it  had  always  been  clean,  it  had 
nothing  to  conceal  from  anyone. 

But  then  came  another  controversy.  Claudel  moved  that 
Norwood  should  be  made  a  member  of  the  committee;  and 
this,  of  course,  was  bitterly  opposed  by  the  radicals.  It  was 
an  insult  to  the  integrity  of  the  committee.  Then,  too,  sug- 
gested Baggs,  an  Englishman,  perhaps  Norwood  might  really 
find  out  something!  The  Jimmie  Higginses  voted  down  the 
motion — not  because  they  feared  any  disclosures,  but  because 
they  felt  that  a  quiet,  sensible  fellow  like  Gerrity,  their  organ- 
iser, might  be  trusted  to  protect  the  good  faith  of  the  movement, 
and  without  antagonising  anybody  or  making  a  fuss. 

The  investigation  took  place,  and  the  result  of  it  was  that 
the  money  which  Jerry  Coleman  had  contributed  for  the 
"Worker"  was  quietly  returned  to  him.  But  the  difference  was 
at  once  made  up  by  the  Germans  in  the  local,  who  regarded  the 
whole  thing  as  a  put-up  job,  an  effort  to  block  the  agitation  for 
a  strike.  These  comrades  took  no  stock  whatever  in  the  talk 
about  "German  gold";  but  on  the  other  hand  they  were  keenly 
on  the  alert  for  the  influence  of  Russian  gold,  which  they  knew 
was  being  openly  distributed  by  old  Abel  Granitch.  And  so  they 
put  their  hands  down  into  their  pockets  and  dug  out  their 
scanty  wages,  so  that  the  demand  for  social  justice  might  be 
kept  alive  in  Leesville. 

The  upshot  of  the  whole  episode  was  that  the  local  rejected 
the  Kaiser's  pay,  but  went  on  doing  what  the  Kaiser  wanted 
without  pay.  This  could  hardly  be  considered  a  satisfactory 
solution,  but  it  was  the  best  that  Jimmie  Higgins  was  able 
to  work  out  at  this  time. 


54  JJLMMIB  HIGGINS 


VI 

The  first  issue  of  the  "Worker"  appeared,  with  Jack  Smith's 
editorial  spread  over  the  front  page,  calling  upon  the  workers 
of  the  Empire  to  take  this  occasion  to  organise  and  demand 
their  rights.  "Eight  hours  for  work,  eight  hours  for  sleep, 
eight  hours  for  play!"  proclaimed  Comrade  Jack;  and  the 
"Herald"  and  the  "Courier,"  stung  to  a  frenzy  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a  poacher  on  their  journalistic  preserves,  answered  with 
broadsides  about  "German  propaganda."  The  "Herald"  got  the 
story  of  what  had  happened  in  the  local;  also  it  printed  a  pic- 
ture of  "Wild  Bill/'  and  an  interview  with  that  terror  of  the 
West,  who  declared  that  he  was  for  war  on  the  capitalist  class 
with  the  aid  of  any  and  every  ally  that  came  along — even  to 
the  extent  of  emery  powder  in  ball-bearings  and  copper  nails 
driven  into  fruit  trees. 

The  "Herald"  charged  that  the  attitude  of  the  Socialists 
toward  "tainted  wealth"  was  all  a  sham.  What  had  happened 
was  simply  that  the  German  members  of  the  local  were  getting 
German  money,  and  making  it  "Socialist  money"  by  the  simple 
device  of  passing  it  through  their  consecrated  hands.  As  this 
had  been  hinted  by  Norwood  in  the  local,  the  German  comrades 
now  charged  that  Norwood  had  betrayed  the  movement  to  the 
capitalist  press.  And  so  came  another  bitter  controversy  in 
the  local.  The  young  lawyer  laughed  at  the  charge.  Did  they 
really  believe  they  could  take  German  money  in  Leesville,  and 
not  have  the  fact  become  known  ? 

"Then  you  think  we  are  taking  German  money?"  roared 
Schneider;  and  he  clamoured  furiously  for  an  answer.  The 
other  would  not  answer  directly,  but  he  told  them  a  little  parable. 
He  saw  a  tree,  sending  down  its  roots  into  the  ground,  spreading 
everywhere,  each  tiny  rootlet  constructed  for  the  purpose  of 
absorbing  water.  And  on  the  top  of  the  ground  was  a  man  with 
a  supply  of  water,  which  he  poured  out;  he  poured  and  poured 
without  stint,  and  the  water  seeped  down  toward  the  rootlets, 
and  every  rootlet  was  reaching  for  water,  pushing  toward  the 
places  where  water  was  likely  to  be.  "And  now,"  said  Nor- 
wood, "you  ask  me  do  I  believe  that  tree  has  been  getting  any 
of  that  water?" 

And  here,  of  course,  was  the  basis  of  a  bitter  quarrel.  The 
hot-heads  would  not  listen  to  subtle  distinctions ;  they  declared 


JIMMIE  HIQGINS  HELPS  THE  KAISER         55 

that  Norwood  was  accusing  the  movement  of  corruption,  he  was 
making  out  his  anti-war  opponents  to  be  villains !  He  was  pro- 
viding the  capitalist  press  with  ammunition.  For  shame!  for 
shame!  "He's  a  stool-pigeon!"  shrieked  "Wild  Bill."  "Put 
him  out,  the  Judas !" 

The  average  member  of  the  local,  the  perfectly  sincere  fel- 
low like  Jimmie  Higgins,  who  was  wearing  himself  out,  half 
starving  himself,  in  the  effort  to  bring  enlightenment  to  his 
class,  listened  to  these  controversies  with  bewildered  distress. 
He  saw  them  as  echoes  of  the  terrible  national  hatreds  which 
were  rending  Europe,  and  he  resented  having  these  old  world 
disputes  thrust  into  American  industrial  life.  Why  could  he 
not  go  on  with  his  duty  of  leading  the  American  workers  into 
the  co-operative  commonwealth? 

Because,  answered  the  Germans,  old  man  Granitch  wanted 
to  keep  the  American  workers  as  munition-slaves;  and  to  this 
idea  the  overwhelming  percentage  of  the  membership  agreed. 
They  were  not  pacifists,  non-resistants ;  they  were  perfectly  will- 
ing to  fight  the  battles  of  the  working-class ;  what  they  objected 
to  was  having  to  fight  the  battles  of  the  master-class.  They 
wanted  to  go  on,  as  they  had  always  gone,  opposing  the  master- 
class and  paying  no  heed  to  talk  about  German  agents.  Jimmie 
Higgins  believed — and  in  this  belief  he  was  perfectly  correct — 
that  even  had  there  been  no  German  agents,  the  capitalist  papers 
of  Leesville  would  have  invented  them,  as  a  means  of  discredit- 
ing the  agitators  in  this  crisis.  Jimmie  Higgins  had  lived  all  his 
life  in  a  country  in  which  his  masters  starved  and  oppressed  him, 
and  when  he  tried  to  help  himself,  met  him  with  every  weapon 
of  treachery  and  slander.  So  Jimmie  had  made  up  his  mind 
that  one  capitalist  country  was  the  same  as  another  capitalist 
country,  and  that  he  would  not  be  frightened  into  submission 
by  tales  about  goblins  and  witches  and  sea-serpents  and  German 
spies. 


CHAPTEK  VI 

JIMMIE   HIGGINS   GOES  TO   JAIL 

"C^VEEY  evening  now  the  party  held  its  "soap-box"  meetings 
-*-J  on  a  corner  just  off  Main  Street.  Jimmie,  having  volun- 
teered as  one  of  the  assistants,  would  bolt  his  supper  in  the 
evening  and  hurry  off  to  the  spot.  He  was  not  one  of  the 
speakers,  of  course — he  would  have  been  terrified  at  the  idea 
of  making  a  speech;  but  he  was  one  of  those  whose  labours 
made  the  speaking  possible,  and  who  reaped  the  harvest  for 
the  movement. 

The  apparatus  of  the  meeting  was  kept  in  the  shop  of  a 
friendly  carpenter  nearby.  The  carpenter  had  made  a  "soap- 
box" that  was  a  wonder — a  platform  mounted  upon  four  slender 
legs,  detachable,  so  that  one  man  could  carry  the  whole  business 
and  set  it  up.  Thus  the  speaker  was  lifted  a  couple  of  feet 
above  the  heads  of  the  crowd,  and  provided  with  a  hand-rail  upon 
which  he  might  lean,  and  even  pound,  if  He  did  not  pound  too 
hard.  A  kerosene  torch  burned  some  distance  from  his  head, 
illuminating  his  features,  and  it  was  Jimmie's  business  to  see  that 
this  torch  was  properly  cleaned  and  filled,  and  to  hold  it  erect  on 
a  pole  part  of  the  time.  The  rest  of  the  time  he  peddled  litera- 
ture among  the  crowd — copies  of  the  Leesville  "Worker,"  and 
five  and  ten  cent  pamphlets  supplied  by  the  National  Office. 

He  would  come  home  at  night,  worn  out  from  these  labours 
after  his  daily  toil ;  he  would  fall  asleep  at  Lizzie's  side,  and  have 
to  be  routed  out  by  her  when  the  alarm-clock  went  off  next 
morning.  She  would  get  him  a  cup  of  hot  coffee,  and  after  he 
had  drunk  this,  he  would  be  himself  again,  and  would  chatter 
about  the  adventures  of  the  night  before.  There  was  always 
something  happening,  a  fellow  starting  a  controversy,  a  drunken 
man,  or  perhaps  a  couple  of  thugs  in  the  pay  of  old  man  Gran- 
itch,  trying  to  break  up  the  meeting. 

Lizzie  would  do  her  best  to  show  that  sympathy  with  her 

56 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  GOES  TO  JAIL  57 

husband's  activities  which  is  expected  from  a  dutiful  wife. 
But  all  the  time  there  was  grief  in  her  soul — the  eternal  grief 
of  the  feminine  temperament,  which  is  cautious  and  conserva- 
tive, in  conflict  with  the  masculine,  which  is  adventurous  and 
destructive.  Here  was  Jimmie,  earning  twice  what  he  had  ever 
earned  before,  having  a  chance  to  feed  his  children  properly  and 
to  put  by  a  little  margin  for  the  first  time  in  his  harassed  life; 
but  instead  of  making  the  most  of  the  opportunity,  he  was  going 
out  on  the  streets  every  night,  doing  everything  in  his  power  to 
destroy  the  golden  occasion  which  fate  had  brought  to  him! 
Like  the  fellow  who  climbs  a  tree  to  saw  off  a  limb,  and  sits  on 
the  limb  and  saws  between  himself  and  the  tree ! 

In  spite  of  her  best  efforts,  Lizzie's  broad,  kindly  face  would 
sometimes  become  hard  with  disappointment,  and  a  big  tear 
would  roll  down  each  of  her  sturdy  cheeks.  Jimmie  would  be 
sorry  for  her,  and  would  patiently  try  to  explain  his  actions. 
Should  a  man  think  only  of  his  own  wife  and  children,  and  for- 
get entirely  all  the  other  wives  and  children  of  the  working- 
class?  That  was  why  the  workers  had  been  slaves  all  through 
the  ages,  because  each  thought  of  himself,  and  never  of  his 
fellows.  No,  you  must  think  of  your  class  I  You  must  act  as 
a  class — on  the  alert  to  seize  every  advantage,  to  teach  solidarity 
and  stimulate  class-consciousness !  Jimmie  would  use  these 
long  words,  which  he  had  heard  at  meetings;  but  then,  seeing 
that  Lizzie  did  not  understand  them,  he  would  go  back  and  say 
it  over  again  in  words  of  one  syllable.  They  had  old  man 
Granitch  in  a  hole  just  now,  and  they  must  teach  him  a  lesson, 
and  at  the  same  time  teach  the  workers  their  power.  Lizzie 
would  sigh,  and  shake  her  head;  for  to  her,  old  man  Granitch 
was  not  a  human  being,  but  a  natural  phenomenon,  like  winter, 
or  hunger.  He,  or  some  other  like  him,  had  been  the  master 
of  her  fathers  for  generations  untold,  and  to  try  to  break  or 
even  to  limit  his  power  was  like  commanding  the  tide  or  the 
sun. 

II 

Events  moved  quickly  to  their  culmination,  justifying  the 
worst  of  Lizzie's  fears.  The  shops  were  seething  with  discon- 
tent, and  agitators  seemed  fairly  to  spring  out  of  the  ground; 
some  of  them  paid  by  Jerry  Coleman,  no  doubt,  others  taking 


58  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

their  pay  in  the  form  of  gratification  of  those  grudges  with 
which  the  profit-system  had  filled  their  hearts.  Noon-meetings 
would  start  up,  quite  spontaneously,  without  any  prearrange- 
ment ;  and  presently  Jimmie  learned  that  men  were  going  about 
taking  the  names  of  all  who  would  agree  to  strike. 

The  matter  was  brought  to  a  head  by  the  Empire  managers, 
who,  of  course,  were  kept  informed  by  their  spies.  They  dis- 
charged more  than  a  score  of  the  trouble-makers ;  and  when  this 
news  spread  at  noon-time,  the  whole  place  burst  into  a  flame  of 
wrath.  "Strike !  strike !"  was  the  cry.  Jimmie  was  one  of  many 
who  started  a  procession  through  the  yards,  shouting,  singing, 
hurling  menaces  at  the  bosses,  challenging  all  who  proposed 
to  return  to  work.  Less  than  one-tenth  of  the  working  force 
made  any  attempt  to  do  so,  and  for  that  afternoon  the  plant  of 
the  Empire  Machine  Shops,  which  was  supposed  to  be  turning 
out  shell-casings  for  the  Russian  government,  was  turning  out 
labour-union,  Socialist,  and  I.  W.  W.  oratory. 

Jimmie  Higgins  was  beside  himself  with  excitement.  He 
danced  about  and  waved  his  cap,  he  shouted  himself  hoarse,  he 
almost  yielded  to  the  impulse  to  jump  upon  a  pile  of  lumber 
and  make  a  speech  himself.  Presently  came  Comrades  Gerrity 
and  Mary  Allen,  who  had  got  wind  of  the  trouble,  and  had 
loaded  a  whole  edition  of  the  "Worker"  into  a  Ford ;  so  Jimmie 
turned  newsboy,  selling  these  papers,  hundreds  of  them,  until 
his  pockets  were  bursting  with  the  weight  of  pennies  and 
nickels.  And  then  he  was  pressed  into  service  running  errands 
for  those  who  were  arranging  to  organise  the  workers;  he  car- 
ried bundles  of  membership-cards  and  application-blanks,  fol- 
lowing a  man  with  a  bull  voice  and  a  megaphone,  who  shouted 
in  several  languages  the  location  of  union  headquarters,  and  the 
halls  where  various  foreign  language  meetings  would  be  held 
that  evening.  Evidently  some  one  had  foreseen  the  breaking  of 
this  trouble,  and  had  been  at  pains  to  plan  ahead. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Jimmie  was  witness  of  an  exciting 
incident.  In  one  of  the  shops  a  number  of  the  men  had  per- 
sisted in  returning  to  work,  and  an  immense  throng  of  strikers 
had  gathered  to  wait  for  them.  They  were  afraid  to  come  out, 
but  stayed  in  the  building  after  the  quitting-whistle,  while 
those  outside  jeered  and  hooted,  and  the  bosses  telephoned  fran- 
tically for  aid.  The  greater  part  of  the  Leesville  police-force 
was  on  hand,  and  in  addition,  the  company  had  its  own  guards 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  GOES  TO  JAIL  59 

and  private  detectives.  But  they  were  needed  all  over  the  place. 
You  saw  them  at  the  various  entrances,  menacing,  but  not  quite 
so  sure  of  themselves  as  usual;  their  hands  had  a  tendency  to 
slip  back  to  the  bulge  on  their  right  hips. 

Jimmie  and  another  fellow  had  got  themselves  an  empty 
box  and  were  standing  on  it,  leaning  against  the  wall  of  the 
building  and  shouting  "Ya!  Ya!"  at  every  "scab"  head  that 
showed  itself.  They  saw  an  automobile  come  in  at  the  gate,  its 
horn  honking  savagely,  causing  the  crowd  to  leap  to  one  side  or 
the  other.  The  automobile  was  packed  with  men,  sitting  on 
one  another's  knees,  or  hanging  to  the  running  boards  outside. 
There  came  a  second  car,  loaded  in  the  same  fashion.  They  were 
guards,  sent  all  the  way  from  Hubbardtown;  for  of  course  the 
Hubbard  Engine  Company  would  help  out  its  rivals  in  an 
emergency  such  as  this.  That  was  the  solidarity  of  capitalism, 
concerning  which  the  Socialists  never  wearied  of  preaching. 

The  men  leaped  from  the  cars,  and  spread  themselves  fan- 
wise  in  front  of  the  door.  They  had  nightsticks  in  their  hands, 
and  grim  resolution  in  their  faces;  they  cried,  "Stand  back! 
Stand  back!"  The  crowd  hooted,  but  gave  slightly,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  the  doors  of  the  building  opened,  and  the  first  of 
the  timid  workers  emerged.  There  was  a  howl,  and  then  from 
somewhere  in  the  throng  a  stone  was  thrown.  "Arrest  that  man  I" 
shouted  a  voice,  and  Jimmie's  attention  was  attracted  to  the 
owner  of  this  voice — a  young  man  who  had  arrived  in  the  first 
automobile,  and  was  now  standing  up  in  the  seat,  from  which 
position  he  could  dominate  the  throng.  "Arrest  that  man  I"  he 
shouted  again,  pointing  his  finger ;  and  three  of  the  guards  leaped 
into  the  crowd  at  the  spot  indicated.  The  man  who  had  thrown 
the  missile  started  to  run,  but  he  could  not  go  fast  in  the  crowd, 
and  in  a  moment,  as  it  seemed,  the  guards  had  him  by  the 
collar.  He  tried  to  jerk  away,  and  they  struck  him  over  the 
head,  and  laid  about  them  to  keep  the  rest  of  the  throng  at  bay. 
"Take  him  inside!"  the  young  man  in  the  car  kept  shouting. 
And  one  of  the  guards  twisted  his  hand  in  the  collar  of  the 
wretched  stone-thrower,  until  he  grew  purple  in  the  face,  and  so 
half  dragged  and  half  ran  him  into  the  building. 

in 

The  young  man  in  the  car  turned  toward  the  crowd  which 
was  blocking  the  way  to  the  exit.  "Get  those  men  out  of  the 


60  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

way !"  he  yelled  to  the  guards.  "Drive  them  along — God  damn 
them,  they've  got  no  business  in  here.5'  And  so  on,  with  a 
string  of  dynamic  profanity,  which  stung  both  guards  and 
policemen  into  action,  and  made  them  ply  their  clubs  upon 
the  crowd. 

"Do  you  know  who  that  is?"  asked  Jimmie's  companion  on 
the  box.  "That's  Lacey  Granitch." 

Jimmie  started,  experiencing  a  thrill  to  the  soles  of  his 
ragged  shoes.  Lacey  Granitch !  In  the  four  years  that  the  little 
machinist  had  worked  for  the  Empire,  he  had  never  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  young  lord  of  Leesville — something  which  may 
easily  be  believed,  for  the  young  lord  considered  Leesville  "a 
hole  of  a  town,"  and  honoured  it  with  his  presence  only  once  or 
twice  a  year.  But  his  spirit  brooded  over  it ;  he  was  to  Leesville 
a  mythological  figure,  either  of  wonder  and  awe,  or  of  horror, 
according  to  the  temperament  of  the  contemplator.  One  day 
"Wild  Bill"  had  arisen  in  the  local,  and  held  aloft  a  page  from 
the  "magazine  supplement"  of  one  of  the  metropolitan  "yellows." 
There  was  an  account  of  how  Lacey  Granitch  had  broken  the 
hearts  of  seven  chorus-girls  by  running  away  with  an  eighth. 
He  fairly  "ate  'em  alive,"  according  to  the  account;  in  order 
to  give  an  idea  of  the  atmosphere  in  which  the  young  hero 
abode,  the  whirl  of  delight  which  was  his  life,  the  artist  of  the 
Sunday  supplement  had  woven  round  the  border  of  the  page 
a  maze  of  feminine  ankles  and  calves  in  a  delirium  of  lingerie; 
while  at  the  top  was  a  supper-table  with  champagne-corks  pop- 
ping, and  a  lady  clad  in  inadequate  veils  dancing  amid  the 
dishes. 

This  had  happened  while  the  local  was  in  the  midst  of  an 
acrimonious  controversy  over  "Section  Six."  Should  the  Social- 
ist party  bar  from  its  membership  those  who  advocated  sabotage, 
violence  and  crime?  Young  Norwood  was  pleading  for  orderly 
methods  of  social  reconstruction;  and  here  stood  "Wild  Bill," 
ripping  to  shreds  the  reputation  of  the  young  plutocrat  of  the 
Empire  Shops.  "That's  what  you  geezers  are  sweating  for! 
That's  why  you've  got  to  be  good,  and  not  throw  monkey- 
wrenches  in  the  machinery — so  the  seven  broken-hearted  chorus- 
girls  can  drown  their  sorrows  in  champagne!" 

And  now  here  was  the  hero  of  all  these .  romantic  escapades, 
forsaking  the  white  lights  of  Broadway,  and  coming  home  to 
help  the  old  man  keep  his  contracts.  He  stood  in  the  seat  of  the 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  GOES  TO  JAIL  61 

automobile,  glancing  this  way  and  that,  swiftly,  like  a  hunter 
on  the  alert  for  dangerous  game.  His  dark  eyes  roamed  here 
and  there,  his  proud  face  was  pale  with  anger,  his  tall,  perfectly 
groomed  figure  was  eloquent  of  mastership,  of  command.  He 
was  imperious  as  a  young  Caesar,  terrible  in  his  vengeance ;  and 
poor  Jimmie,  watching  him,  was  torn  between  two  contradic- 
tory emotions.  He  hated  him — hated  him  with  a  deadly  and 
abiding  hatred.  But  also  he  admired  him,  marvelled  at  him, 
cringed  before  him.  Lacey  was  a  wanton,  a  cursing  tyrant,  a 
brutal  snob;  but  also  he  was  the  master,  the  conqueror,  the 
proud,  free,  rich  young  aristocrat,  for  whom  all  the  rest  of 
humanity  existed.  And  Jimmie  Higgins  was  a  poor  little  worm 
of  a  proletarian,  with  nothing  but  his  labour-power  to  sell,  try- 
ing by  sheer  force  of  his  will  to  lift  himself  out  of  his  slave- 
psychology  ! 

There  is  an  old  adage  that  "a  cat  may  look  at  a  king."  But 
this  can  only  have  been  meant  to  apply  to  house-cats,  cats  of  the 
palace,  accustomed  to  the  etiquette  of  courts;  it  cannot  have 
been  meant  for  proletarian  cats  of  the  gutter,  the  Jimmie 
Higgins  variety  of  red  revolutionary  yowlers.  Jimmie  and  his 
companion  stood  on  their  perch,  shouting  "Ya  I  Ya !"  and  sud- 
denly the  crowd  melted  away  in  front  of  them,  exposing  them 
to  the  angry  finger  of  the  young  master.  "Get  along  now !  Beat 
it !  Quick !"  And  Jimmie,  poor  little  ragged,  stunted  Jimmie, 
with  bad  teeth  and  toil-deformed  hands,  wilted  before  this  blast 
of  aristocratic  wrath,  and  made  haste  to  hide  himself  in  the 
throng.  But  it  was  with  blazing  soul  that  he  went;  every 
instant  he  imagined  himself  turning  back,  defying  the  angry 
finger,  shouting  down  the  imperious  voice,  even  smashing  it  back 
into  the  throat  from  which  it  came! 


IV 

Jimmie  did  not  even  stop  for  supper.  The  greater  part  of 
the  night  he  worked  at  helping  to  organise  the  strikers,  and 
all  next  day  he  spent  arranging  Socialist  meetings.  He 
worked  like  a  man  possessed,  lifted  above  the  limitations  of 
the  flesh.  For  everywhere  that  day  he  carried  with  him  the 
image  of  the  proud,  free,  rich  young  aristocrat,  with  his  dark 
eyes  roaming  swiftly,  his  tall,  perfectly  groomed  figure  eloquent 
of  mastership,  his  voice  ringing  with  challenge.  Jimmie  was 


62  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

for  the  time  utterly  possessed  by  hatred ;  and  he  saw  about  him 
thousands  of  others  sharing  the  mood  and  shouting  it  aloud. 
Every  speaker  who  could  be  found  was  turned  loose  to  talk 
till  he  was  hoarse,  and  in  the  evening  there  were  to  be  half  a 
dozen  street  meetings.  That  was  always  the  way  when  there 
were  strikes ;  then  the  working-man  had  time  to  listen — and  also 
the  desire! 

So  came  the  final  crisis,  when  the  little  machinist  had  to  show 
the  stuff  he  was  made  of.  He  was  holding  aloft  the  torch  at 
the  regular  meeting-place  on  the  corner  of  Main  and  Third 
Streets,  and  Comrade  Gerrity  was  explaining  the  strike  and  the 
ballot  as  two  edges  of  the  sword  of  labour,  when  four  policemen 
came  suddenly  round  the  corner  and  pushed  their  way  through 
the  crowd.  "You'll  have  to  stop  this  I"  declared  one. 

"Stop?"  cried  Gerrity.    "What  do  you  mean?" 

"There's  to  be  no  more  street-speaking  during  the  strike," 

"Who  says  so?" 

"Orders  from  the  Chief/' 

"But  we've  got  a  permit." 

"All  permits  revoked.     Cut  it  out." 

"But  this  is  an  outrage !" 

"We  don't  want  any  argument,  young  man " 

"But  we're  within  our  rights  here." 

"Forget  it,  young  feller  I" 

Gerrity  turned  swiftly  to  the  throng. 

"Fellow-citizens/'  he  cried,  "we  are  here  in  the  exercise  of 
our  rights  as  American  citizens!  We  are  conducting  a  peace- 
able and  orderly  political  meeting,  and  we  know  our  rights  and 
propose  to  maintain  them.  We " 

"Come  down  off  that  box,  young  feller!"  commanded  the 
officer;  and  the  crowd  hooted  and  booed. 

"Fellow-citizens !"  began  Gerrity  again ;  but  that  was  as  far 
as  he  got,  for  the  policeman  seized  him  by  the  arm  and  pulled; 
and  Gerrity  knew  the  ways  of  American  policemen  too  well  to 
resist.  He  came  down — but  still  talking.  "Fellow-citizens " 

"Are  you  goin'  to  shut  up?"  demanded  the  other,  and  as 
Gerrity  still  went  on  orating,  he  announced:  "You  are  under 
arrest." 

There  were  half  a  dozen  Socialists  with  the  party,  and  this 
was  a  challenge  to  the  self-respect  of  every  one  of  them.  In  an 
instant  Comrade  Mabel  Smith  had  leaped  onto  the  stand.  "FeL- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  GOBS  TO  JAIL  63 

low-workers!"  she  cried.     "Is  this  America,  or  is  it  Kussia?" 
"That'll  do,  lady/'  said  the  policeman,  as  considerately  as  he 
dared;  for  Comrade  Mabel  wore  a  big  picture-hat,  and  many 
other  signs  of  youth  and  beauty. 

"I  have  a  right  to  speak  here,  and  I  mean  to  speak,"  she  de- 
clared. 

"We  don't  want  to  have  to  arrest  you,  lady " 

"You  either  have  to  arrest  me,  or  else  allow  me  to  speak." 
"I'm  sorry,  lady,  but  it's  orders.    You  are  arrested." 
Then  came  the  turn  of  Comrade  Stankewitz.    "Vorkingmen, 
it  is  for  the  rights  of  the  vorkers  ve  are  here."    And  so  they 
jerked  him  off. 

And  then  "Wild  Bill."  This  hundred  per  cent,  middle-of- 
the-road  proletarian  had  been  hanging  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
meeting,  having  been  forbidden  by  the  local  to  take  part  in  the 
speaking,  because  of  the  intemperate  nature  of  his  utterances; 
but  now,  of  course,  all  rules  went  down,  and  Bill  leaped  onto 
the  shaking  platform.  "Are  we  slaves?"  he  yelled.  "Are  we 
dogs  ?"  And  it  would  seem  that  the  police  thought  so,  for  they 
yanked  him  off  the  platform,  and  one  of  them  seized  him  by 
the  wrist  and  twisted  so  that  his  oration  ended  in  a  shriek  of 
pain. 

Then  came  Johnny  Edge,  a  shy  youth  with  an  armful  of 
literature,  which  he  hung  onto  in  spite  of  police  violence;  and 
then — then  there  was  one  more ! 

Poor  Jimmie !  He  did  not  in  the  least  want  to  get  arrested, 
and  he  was  terrified  at  the  idea  of  making  even  so  short  a  speech 
as  was  here  the  order  of  the  night.  But  of  course,  his  honour 
was  at  stake,  there  was  no  way  out.  He  handed  his  torch  to  a 
by-stander,  and  mounted  the  scaffold.  "Is  this  a  free  coun- 
try ?"  he  cried.  "Do  we  have  free  speech  ?"  And  Jimmie's  first 
effort  at  oratory  ended  in  a  jerk  at  his  coat-tail,  which  all  but 
upset  the  frail  platform  upon  which  he  stood. 

There  were  four  policemen,  with  six  prisoners,  and  a  throng 
about  them  howling  with  indignation,  perhaps  ready  to  become 
violent — who  could  say?  The  guardians  of  order  had  been 
prepared,  however.  One  of  them  stepped  to  the  corner  and  blew 
his  whistle,  and  a  minute  later  came  the  shriek  of  a  siren,  and 
round  the  corner  came  swinging  the  city's  big  patrol-wagon,  the 
"Black  Maria."  The  crowd  gave  way,  and  one  by  one  the 
prisoners  were  thrust  in.  One  of  them,  "Wild  Bill,"  feeling 


'64  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

himself  for  a  moment  released  from  the  grip  of  his  captors, 
raised  his  voice,  shouting  through  the  wire  grating  of  the 

wagon :  "I  denounce  this  outrage !    I  am  a  free  American " 

And  suddenly  Jimmie,  who  was  next  in  the  wagon,  felt  himself 
flung  to  one  side,  and  a  policeman  leaped  by  him,  and  planted 
his  fist  with  terrific  violence  full  in  the  orator's  mouth.  "Wild 
Bill"  went  down  like  a  bullock  under  the  slaughter-man's  axe, 
and  the  patrol-wagon  started  up,  the  cry  of  its  siren  drowning 
the  protests  of  the  crowd. 

Poor  Bill !  He  lay  across  the  seat,  and  Jimmie,  who  had  to 
eit  next  to  him,  caught  him  in  his  arms  and  held  him.  He  was 
quivering,  with  awful  motions  like  a  spasm.  He  made  no 
sound,  and  Jimmie  was  terrified,  thinking  that  he  was  dying. 
Before  long  Jimmie  felt  a  hot  wetness  stealing  over  his  hands, 
first  slimy,  then  turning  sticky.  He  had  to  sit  there,  almost 
fainting  with  horror;  he  dared  not  say  anything,  for  maybe 
the  policeman  would  strike  him  also.  He  sat,  clutching  in  his 
arms  the  shaking  body,  and  whispering  under  his  breath,  "Poor 
Bill!  Poor  Bill !" 


They  came  to  the  station-house,  and  Bill  was  carried  out  and 
laid  on  a  bench,  and  the  others  were  stood  up  before  the  desk 
and  had  their  pedigrees  taken.  Gerrity  demanded  indignantly 
to  be  allowed  to  telephone,  and  this  demand  was  granted.  He 
routed  lawyer  Norwood  from  a  party,  and  set  him  to  finding 
bail;  and  meantime  the  prisoners  were  led  to  cells. 

They  had  been  there  only  a  couple  of  minutes  when  there 
'Came  floating  through  the  row  of  steel  cages  the  voice  of  a 
woman  singing.  It  was  Comrade  Mabel  Smith,  in  that  clear 
sweet  voice  they  had  so  often  listened  to  on  "social  evenings" 
:in  the  local.  She  was  singing  the  Internationale : 

Arise,  ye  prisoners  of  starvation, 
Arise,  ye  wretched  of  the  earth! 

The  sound  thrilled  them  to  the  very  bones,  and  they  joined 
in  the  chorus  with  a  shout.  Then,  of  course,  came  the  jailer: 
"Shut  up!"  And  then  again:  "Shut  up!"  And  then  a  third 
time:  "Will  ye  shut  up?"  And  then  came  a  bucket  of  water, 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  GOES  TO  JAIL  65< 

hurled  through  the  cell  bars.  It  hit  Jimmie  squarely  in  the 
mouth,  and  in  the  words  of  the  poet,  "the  subsequent  proceedings 
interested  him  no  more !" 

About  midnight  came  Lawyer  Norwood  and  Dr.  Service. 
Both  of  these  men  had  protested  against  the  street-speaking  at 
this  time;  but  of  course,  when  it  came  to  comrades  in  trouble, 
they  could  not  resist  the  appeal  to  their  sympathies.  Such  is 
the  difficulty  of  entirely  respectable  and  decorous  "parlour" 
Socialists,  in  their  dealings  with  the  wayward  children  of  the 
movement,  the  "impossibilists"  and  "direct  actionists"  and  other 
sowers  of  proletarian  wild  oats.  Dr.  Service  produced  a  wad 
of  bills  and  bailed  out  all  the  prisoners,  and  delivered  himself 
of  impressive  indignation  to  the  police-sergeant,  while  waiting 
for  an  ambulance  to  carry  "Wild  Bill"  to  the  hospital.  Jimmie 
Higgins,  who  had  always  hitherto  shouted  with  the  "wild"  ones, 
realised  suddenly  how  pleasant  it  is  to  have  a  friend  who  wears 
black  broadcloth,  and  carries  himself  like  the  drum-major  of 
a  band,  and  is  reputed  to  be  worth  a  couple  of  hundred  thousand 
dollars. 

Jimmie  went  home;  and  there  was  Lizzie,  pacing  the  floor 
and  wringing  her  hands  in  anxiety — for  there  had  been  no  way 
to  get  word  to  her  what  had  happened.  She  flung  herself  into 
his  arms,  and  then  recoiled  in  fright  when  she  discovered  that 
he  was  wet.  He  told  her  the  story ;  and  would  you  believe  it — 
Lizzie,  being  a  woman,  and  only  in  the  A-B-C  stage  of  revolu- 
tionary education,  actually  did  not  know  that  it  was  a  glorious 
and  heroic  adventure  to  be  arrested !  She  thought  it  a  disgrace,, 
and  tried  to  persuade  him  to  keep  the  dreadful  secret  from  the 
neighbourhood !  And  when  she  found  that  he  was  not  through 
yet,  but  had  to  go  to  court  in  the  morning  and  be  tried,  she- 
wept  copiously,  and  woke  up  Jimmie  Junior,  and  started  him  to 
bawling.  She  was  only  to  be  pacified  when  Jimmie  Senior 
agreed  to  take  off  his  wet  clothes  at  once,  and  drink  a  cup  or 
two  of  boiling  hot  tea,  and  let  himself  be  covered  up  with  blan- 
kets, so  that  he  might  not  die  of  pneumonia  before  he  could 
get  to  court. 

Next  morning  there  was  a  crowded  court-room  and  a  stern 
and  solemn  judge  frowning  over  his  spectacles,  and  Lawyer 
Norwood  making  an  impassioned  defence  of  the  fundamental 
American  right  of  free  speech.  It  was  so  very  thrilling  that 
Jimmie  could  hardly  be  kept  from  applauding  his  own  lawyer  I 


66  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

And  then  Comrade  Dr.  Service  arose,  and  in  his  most  impres- 
sive voice  gave  the  professional  information  that  "Wild  Bill's" 
nose  had  been  broken,  and  three  of  his  front  teeth  knocked  out, 
and  that  he  was  in  the  hospital  and  unable  to  come  to  court; 
and  all  the  other  prisoners  were  called  upon  to  testify  what 
"Wild  Bill"  had  done  to  bring  this  fate  upon  him.  The  police- 
man who  had  struck  the  blow  testified  that  the  prisoner  had 
resisted  arrest ;  a  second  policeman  testified,  "I  seen  the  prisoner 
hit  him  first,  your  Honour," — which  caused  Comrade  Mabel 
Smith  to  cry  out,  "Oh,  the  ungrammatical  prevaricator!" 

The  upshot  of  the  trial  was  that  each  of  the  defendants 
was  fined  ten  dollars.  Comrade  Gerrity  led  off  with  an  indig- 
nant refusal  to  pay  the  fine;  the  rest  of  them  followed  suit — 
even  Comrade  Mabel !  This  caused  evident  distress  of  mind  to 
the  judge,  for  Comrade  Mabel  with  her  indignant  pink  cheeks 
and  her  big  picture-hat  looked  more  than  ever  the  lady,  and  it 
is  a  fact  known  even  to  judges  that  American  jails  have  not 
been  constructed  for  ladies.  The  matter  was  settled  by  Lawyer 
Norwood  paying  her  fine,  in  spite  of  her  protests,  and  her 
demand  to  be  sent  to  jail. 

VI 

The  five  men  were  led  away,  over  the  "Bridge  of  Sighs,"  as 
it  was  called,  to  the  city  jail,  where  they  had  their  pedigrees 
taken  again,  and  their  pictures  and  their  finger-prints — which 
for  the  first  time  impressed  upon  their  minds  the  fact  that  they 
were  dangerous  criminals.  Their  clothes  were  taken  away,  and 
shirts  and  trousers  given  them,  whose  faded  blue  colour  seemed 
to  have  been  impregnated  with  the  misery  of  scores  of  previous 
wearers.  They  were  led  through  steel-barred  doors,  and  along 
dark,  steel-barred  passages  to  one  of  the  "tanks."  A  "tank," 
you  discovered,  was  one  floor  of  this  four-storied  packing  box; 
on  each  side  of  it  were  a  row  of  a  dozen  barred  cells,  each  with 
four  bunks,  so  that  the  total  maximum  population  which  might 
be  crowded  into  the  central  space  of  the  "tank"  was  ninety-six ; 
however,  this  only  happened  on  Monday  mornings,  when  the 
"drunks"  had  all  been  brought  in,  and  before  the  courts  had  had 
time  to  sort  them  out. 

After  you  had  lain  down  on  your  bunk  for  a  few  minutes,  or 
had  leaned  against  the  wall  of  the  "tank,"  you  felt  an  annoy- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  GOES  TO  JAIL  67 

ing  stinging  sensation  somewhere  on  you.  You  began  to  rub 
and  scratch;  before  long  you  would  be  rubbing  and  scratching 
in  a  dozen  different  places,  and  then  you  would  observe  your 
neighbour  watching  you  with  a  grin.  "Seam-squirrels?"  he 
would  say ;  and  he  would  bid  you  take  off  your  coat,  and  engage 
in  the  popular  hunting  game  of  the  institution.  Jimmie  re- 
membered having  heard  a  speaker  refer  to  the  city  jail  as  the 
"Leesville  Louse-ranch" ;  he  had  thought  that  a  good  joke  at  the 
time,  but  now  it  seemed  otherwise  to  him. 

It  was  splendid  to  stand  up  in  court  and  to  take  your  stand 
as  a  martyr ;  but  now  Jimmie  discovered,  as  many  an  unfortunate 
has  discovered  before  him,  that  being  a  martyr  is  not  the  sport 
it  is  cracked  up  to  be.  There  were  no  heroics  now,  no  singing. 
If  you  even  so  much  as  hummed,  they  took  you  out  and  shut 
you  up  in  a  dark  hole  called  the  "cooler" !  Nor  could  you  read, 
for  there  was  no  light  in  your  cell,  and  perpetual  twilight  in  the 
central  gathering  place  of  the  "tank."  Apparently  the  only 
things  the  authorities  of  Leesville  wished  you  to  do  were  to 
hunt  "seam-squirrels,"  to  smoke  cigarettes,  to  "shoot  craps,"  and 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  variety  of  interesting  young 
criminals,  so  that  when  you  were  ready  to  resume  your  outside 
life  you  might  decide  whether  you  wanted  to  be  a  hold-up  man, 
a  safe-cracker,  a  forger,  or  a  second-story  operator. 

Jimmie  Higgins,  of  course,  brought  a  different  psychology 
from  that  of  the  average  jail-inmate.  Jimmie  could  do  his 
kind  of  work  just  as  well  in  jail  as  anywhere  else ;  and  barring 
the  torment  of  vermin,  the  diet  of  bread  and  thin  coffee  and  ill- 
smelling  greasy  soup,  and  the  worry  about  his  helpless  family 
outside,  he  really  had  a  happy  time — making  the  acquaintance 
of  hoboes  and  pickpockets,  and  explaining  to  them  the  revolu- 
tionary philosophy.  A  man  who  went  in  to  remedy  social  in- 
justice all  by  himself  could  never  get  very  far.  It  was  only  when 
he  realised  himself  as  a  member  of  a  class,  and  stood  as  a  class 
and  acted  as  a  class,  that  he  could  accomplish  a  permanent  result. 
Some  of  the  workers  had  discovered  this,  and  had  set  out  to  edu- 
cate their  fellows.  They  brought  the  wondrous  message,  even  ta 
those  in  jail;  holding  out  to  them  the  vision  of  a  world  made 
over  in  justice  and  kindness,  the  co-operative  commonwealth 
of  labour,  in  which  every  man  should  get  what  he  produced,  and 
no  man  could  exploit  his  fellows. 


68  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 


VII 

Three  days  passed,  and  then  one  afternoon  Jimmie  was 
summoned  to  see  a  visitor.  He  could  guess  who  the  visitor  was, 
and  he  went  with  his  heart  in  his  throat,  and  looked  through  the 
dark  mesh  of  wire,  and  saw  Lizzie  standing — stout,  motherly 
Lizzie,  now  very  pale,  and  breathing  hard,  and  with  tears  running 
in  little  streamlets  down  her  cheeks.  Poor  Lizzie,  with  her 
three  babies  at  home,  and  her  plain,  ordinary,  non-revolutionary 
psychology,  which  made  going  to  jail  a  humiliation  instead  of  a 
test  of  manhood,  a  badge  of  distinction !  Jimmie  felt  a  clutch 
in  his  own  throat,  and  an  impulse  to  tear  down  the  beastly  wire 
mesh  and  clasp  the  dear  motherly  soul  in  his  arms.  But  all  he 
could  do  was  to  screw  his  face  into  a  dubious  smile.  Sure,  he 
was  having  the  time  of  his  life  in  this  jail !  He  wouldn't  have 
missed  it  for  anything !  He  had  made  a  Socialist  out  of  "Dead- 
eye  Mike,"  and  had  got  Pete  Curley,  a  fancy  "con"  man,  to 
promise  to  read  "War,  What  For?" 

There  was  only  one  thing  which  had  been  troubling  him,  and 
that  was,  how  his  family  was  making  out.  They  had  had  prac- 
tically nothing  in  the  house,  he  knew,  and  poor  Meissner  could 
not  feed  four  extra  mouths.  But  Lizzie,  also  screwing  her  face 
into  a  smile,  assured  him  that  everything  was  all  right  at  home, 
there  was  no  need  to  worry.  In  the  first  place,  Comrade  Dr. 
Service  had  sent  her  a  piece  of  paper  with  his  name  written  on 
it ;  it  appeared  that  this  was  called  a  check,  and  the  groceryman 
had  exchanged  it  for  a  five  dollar  bill.  And  in  the  next  place 
there  was  a  domestic  secret  which  Lizzie  had  to  confide — she  had 
put  by  some  money,  without  letting  Jimmie  know  it. 

"But  how?"  cried  Jimmie,  in  wonder — for  he  had  thought 
he  knew  all  about  his  household  and  its  expenses. 

So  Lizzie  explained  the  trick  she  had  played.  Jimmie  had 
committed  an  extravagance,  treating  her  to  a  new  dress  out  of 
his  increased  earnings :  a  gorgeous  contrivance  of  several  colours, 
looking  like  silk,  even  if  it  wasn't.  Lizzie  had  stated  that  the 
cost  was  fifteen  dollars,  and  he,  the  dub,  had  believed  it !  The 
truth  was  she  had  bought  the  dress  in  a  second-hand  shop  for 
three  dollars,  and  had  put  twelve  dollars  away  for  the  time  of 
the  strike ! 

And  Jimmie  went  back  to  his  "tank/7  shaking  his  head  and 
philosophising :  "Gee !  Can  you  beat  these  women  ?" 


CHAPTER  VII 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DALLIES  WITH  CUPID 


THE  strike  was  over  when  Jimmie  came  out  of  jail;  it  had 
been  settled  by  the  double-barrelled  device  of  raising  the 
wages  of  the  men  and  putting  their  leaders  behind  bars.  Jimmie 
presented  himself  at  his  old  place  of  working,  and  the  boss  told 
him  to  go  to  hell;  so  Jimmie  went  to  Hubbardtown,  and  stood 
in  the  long  line  of  men  waiting  at  the  gate  of  the  engine  com- 
pany. Jimmie  knew  about  black-lists,  so  when  his  time  came 
to  be  questioned,  he  said  his  name  was  Joe  Aronsky,  and  he  had 
last  worked  in  a  machine-shop  in  Pittsburg;  he  had  come  to 
Hubbardtown  because  he  had  heard  of  high  pay  and  good  treat- 
ment. While  he  was  answering  these  questions,  he  noticed  a 
man  sitting  in  the  corner  of  the  room  studying  his  face,  and 
he  saw  the  boss  turn  and  glance  in  that  direction.  The  man 
shook  his  head,  and  the  boss  said :  "Nothin'  doinY'  So  Jimmie 
understood  that  the  Hubbard  Engine  Company  was  taking 
measures  to  keep  its  shops  clear  of  the  agitators  from  Leesville. 

He  spent  a  couple  of  days  trying  other  places  in  his  home 
town,  but  all  in  vain — they  had  him  spotted.  At  the  brewery 
they  were  slower  than  elsewhere — they  took  him  on  for  two 
hours.  Then  they  found  out  his  record,  and  "fired"  him;  and 
Jimmie  "kidded"  the  boss,  saying  that  they  were  too  late — he 
had  already  given  a  Socialist  leaflet  to  every  man  in  the  room ! 

On  Jefferson  Street,  an  out  of  the  way  part  of  the  town,  was 
a  bicycle-shop  kept  by  an  old  German  named  Kumme.  One  of 
the  comrades  told  Jimmie  that  he  wanted  a  helper,  and  Jimmie 
went  there  and  got  a  job  at  two  dollars  a  day.  That  was  poor 
pay  at  present  prices,  but  Jimmie  liked  the  place,  because  his 
boss  was  a  near-Socialist,  a  pacifist — for  all  countries  except 
Germany.  He  got  round  it  by  saying  that  every  nation  had 

69 


70  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

a  right  to  defend  itself;  and  Germany  was  the  nation  which 
had  been  attacked  in  this  war.  A  good  part  of  the  energies  of 
the  old  man  went  into  proving  this  to  his  customers;  if  there 
were  any  customers  who  did  not  like  it,  they  could  go  elsewhere. 

Those  who  came  were  largely  Germans,  and  so  Jimmie  was 
kept  fully  supplied  with  arguments  against  the  munitions-indus- 
try, which  they  called  a  trade  in  murder,  and  in  favour  of  the 
programme  of  "Feed  America  First."  Among  those  who  fre- 
quented the  place  was  Jerry  Coleman,  who  was  still  on  the  job, 
and  as  well  supplied  with  ten  dollar  bills  as  ever.  He  had  now 
revealed  himself  as  an  organiser  for  a  new  propaganda  society, 
called  "Labour's  National  Peace  Council/'  Inasmuch  as  Labour 
and  Peace  were  the  phrases  upon  which  Jimmie  lived,  he  saw  no 
reason  why  he  should  not  back  this  organisation.  Coleman 
assured  Jimmie  he  hated  the  Kaiser,  but  that  the  German  "peo- 
ple" must  be  defended.  So  Jimmie  became,  without  having  the 
least  idea  of  it,  one  of  the  agencies  whereby  the  Kaiser  was  sub- 
sidising social  discontent  in  America. 

But  Jimmie  was  more  careful  now  in  his  agitations.  He 
had  brought  such  distress  into  his  home  by  his  jail  sentence, 
that  he  had  been  forced  to  make  promises  to  Lizzie.  Her 
anxiety  for  her  children  could  no  longer  be  kept  to  herself; 
and  this  caused  a  certain  amount  of  friction  between  them,  and 
sent  Jimmie  out  grumbling  at  his  lot  in  life.  What  was  the 
use  of  trying  to  educate  a  woman,  who  could  see  no  farther  than 
her  own  kitchen-stove  ?  When  you  wanted  to  be  a  world-saviour, 
to  walk  tip-toe  on  the  misty  mountain-tops  of  heroism,  she 
dragged  you  down  and  chained  you  to  the  commonplace,  taking 
all  the  zest  and  fervour  out  of  your  soul!  The  memories  of 
"seam-squirrels"  and  of  thin  and  ill-smelling  and  greasy  soup 
had  slipped  somewhat  into  the  background  of  Jimmie's  mind, 
and  he  lived  again  the  sublime  hour  when  he  had  confronted  the 
court  and  stood  for  the  fundamental  rights  of  an  American 
citizen.  He  wanted  to  have  that  act  of  daring  appreciated  at 
its  true  value.  Poor,  blind,  home-keeping  Lizzie,  who  could  not 
fufil  these  deeper  needs  of  her  husband's  soul ! 

Jimmie  had  been,  so  far  in  his  married  life,  as  well  domes- 
ticated as  could  be  expected  of  a  proletarian  propagandist.  He 
had  yearned  to  own  a  home  of  his  own,  and  meantime  had 
manifested  his  repressed  wish  by  getting  a  big  packing-box  and 
some  broken  shingles,  and  building  a  model  play-house  for 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DALLIES  WITH  CUPID        71 

Jimmie  Junior  in  the  back  yard.  He  had  even  found  time  on 
his  tired  and  crowded  Sundays  to  start  a  garden  in  mid-summer, 
the  season  when  the  local  was  least  active.  But  now,  of  course, 
the  war  had  come  to  obsess  his  mind,  driving  him  to  terror  for 
the  future  of  humanity,  tempting  him  to  martyrdoms  and  do- 
mestic irritations. 

II 

It  was  at  this  critical  period  in  Jimmie's  life  that  there 
appeared  in  Leesville  a  vivid  young  person  by  the  name  of 
Evelyn  Baskerville.  Evelyn  was  no  tired  kitchen  slave — with 
her  fluffy  brown  hair,  her  pert  little  dimples,  her  trim  figure, 
her  jaunty  hat  with  a  turkey-feather  stuck  on  one  side  of  her 
head.  Evelyn  was  a  stenographer,  and  proclaimed  herself  an 
advanced  feminist ;  at  her  first  visit  she  set  the  local  upside  down. 
It  happened  to  be  "social  evening,"  when  all  the  men  smoked, 
and  this  "free"  young  thing  took  a  cigarette  from  her  escort 
and  puffed  it  all  over  the  place.  This,  of  course,  would  not 
have  made  a  stir  in  great  centres  of  culture  such  as  London 
and  Greenwich  Village;  but  in  Leesville  it  was  the  first  time 
that  the  equality  of  women  had  been  interpreted  to  mean  that 
the  women  should  adopt  the  vices  of  the  men. 

Then  Evelyn  had  produced  from  her  handbag  some  leaflets 
on  Birth  Control,  and  proposed  that  the  local  should  undertake 
their  distribution.  This  was  a  new  subject  in  Leesville,  and 
while  the  members  supposed  it  was  all  right,  they  found  it 
embarrassing  to  have  the  matter  explained  too  fully  in  open 
meeting.  Evelyn  wanted  a  "birth  strike,"  as  the  surest  means 
of  ending  the  war;  she  wanted  the  "Worker"  to  take  up  this 
programme,  and  did  not  conceal  her  contempt  for  reactionaries 
in  the  movement  who  still  wanted  to  pretend  that  babies  were 
brought  by  storks.  The  delicate  subject  was  finally  "tabled," 
and  when  the  meeting  adjourned  and  the  members  walked  home, 
every  one  was  talking  about  Miss  Baskerville — the  men  mostly 
talking  with  the  men,  and  the  women  with  the  women. 

Pretty  soon  it  became  evident  that  the  vivid  and  dashing 
young  person  was  setting  her  cap  for  Comrade  Gerrity,  the 
organiser.  As  Gerrity  was  an  eligible  young  bachelor,  that  was 
all  right.  But  then,  a  little  later,  it  began  to  be  suspected  that 
she  had  designs  upon  Comrade  Claudel,  the  Belgian  jeweller. 


72  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Doubtless  she  had  a  right  to  make  her  choice  between  them ;  but 
some  of  the  women  were  of  the  opinion  that  she  took  too  long 
to  choose;  and  finally  one  or  two  malicious  ones  began  to  say 
that  she  had  no  intention  of  choosing — she  wanted  both. 

And  then  fell  a  thunderbolt  into  Jimmie's  life.  It  was  just 
after  his  arrest,  when  fame  still  clung  to  him;  and  after  the 
meeting  Comrade  Baskerville  came  up  and  engaged  him  in  con- 
versation. How  did  it  feel  to  be  a  jailbird?  When  he  told 
her  that  it  felt  fine,  she  bade  him  not  be  too  proud — she  had 
served  thirty  days  for  picketing  in  a  shirt-waist  strike !  As  she 
looked  at  him,  her  pretty  brown  eyes  sparkled  with  mischief, 
and  her  wicked  little  dimples  lost  no  curtain-calls.  Poor,  hum- 
ble Jimmie  was  stirred  to  his  shoe-tips,  for  he  had  never  before 
received  the  attentions  of  such  a  fascinating  creature — unless 
perchance  it  had  been  to  sell  her  a  newspaper,  or  to  beg  the  price 
of  a  sandwich  in  his  hobo  days.  Here  was  one  of  the  wonderful 
things  about  the  Socialist  movement,  that  it  broke  down  the 
barriers  of  class,  and  gave  you  exciting  glimpses  of  higher  worlds 
of  culture  and  charm! 

Comrade  Baskerville  continued  to  flash  her  dimples  and  her 
wit  at  Jimmie,  despite  the  fact  that  Comrade  Gerrity  and  Com- 
rade Claudel  and  several  other  moths  were  hovering  about  the 
candle-flame,  and  all  the  women  in  the  local  watching  out  of 
the  corners  of  their  eyes.  Finally,  to  Jimmie's  unutterable 
consternation,  the  vivid  young  goddess  of  Liberty  inquired, 
"Wouldn't  you  like  to  walk  home  with  me,  Comrade  Higgins  ?" 
He  stammered,  "Yes";  and  they  went  out,  the  young  goddess 
plying  him  with  questions  about  conditions  in  the  jail,  and 
displaying  most  convincing  erudition  on  the  subject  of  the  eco- 
nomic aspects  of  criminology — at  the  same  time  seeming  entirely 
oblivious  to  the  hoverings  of  the  other  moths,  and  the  disgust  of 
the  unemancipated  ladies  of  Local  Leesville. 


in 

They  walked  down  the  street  together,  and  first  Comrade 
Baskerville  shivered  with  horror  at  the  "seam-squirrels,"  and 
then  exclaimed  with  delight  over  the  conversion  of  "Dead-eye 
Mike"  to  Socialism,  and  then  made  merry  over  the  singing  of  the 
Internationale  in  the  police-station.  Had  she  discovered  a 
"character"  in  this  seemingly  insignificant  little  machinist  ?  At 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DALLIES  WITH  CUPID        73 

any  rate,  she  plied  him  with  questions  about  his  past  life  and 
his  ideas.  When  he  told  her  of  his  starved  and  neglected  child- 
hood, she  murmured  sympathetically,  and  it  seemed  to  the 
fascinated  Jimmie  that  here  was  a  woman  who  understood  in- 
stinctively all  the  cravings  of  his  soul.  She  laid  her  hand  on 
his  arm,  and  it  was  as  if  an  angel  were  touching  him — strange 
little  thrills  ran  like  currents  of  electricity  all  over  him. 

Yes,  Comrade  Baskerville  could  appreciate  his  sufferings, 
because  she  had  suffered  too.  She  had  had  a  step-mother,  and 
had  run  away  from  home  at  an  early  age,  and  fought  her  own 
way.  That  was  why  she  stood  so  firmly  for  woman's  emancipa- 
tion— she  knew  the  slavery  of  her  sex  through  bitter  experience. 
There  were  many  men  who  believed  in  sex-equality  as  a  matter 
of  words,  but  had  no  real  conception  of  it  in  action;  as  for 
the  women — well,  you  might  see  right  here  in  the  local  the 
most  narrow,  bourgeois  ideas  dominating  their  minds.  Jimmie 
did  not  know  what  ideas  Comrade  Baskerville  meant,  but  he 
knew  that  her  voice  was  musical  and  full  of  quick  changes  that 
made  him  shiver. 

He  was  supposed  to  be  taking  her  home ;  but  he  had  no  idea 
where  she  lived,  and  apparently  she  had  no  idea  either,  for  they 
just  wandered  on  and  on,  talking  about  all  the  wonderful  new 
ideas  that  were  stirring  the  minds  of  men  and  women.  Did 
Comrade  Higgins  believe  in  trial  marriages?  Comrade  Hig- 
gins  had  never  heard  of  this  wild  idea  before,  but  he  listened, 
and  bravely  concealed  his  dismay.  What  about  the  children? 
The  eager  feminist  answered  there  need  not  be  any  children. 
Unwanted  children  were  a  crime!  She  proposed  to  get  the 
working-class  women  together  and  instruct  them  in  the  tech- 
nique of  these  delicate  matters;  and  meantime,  lacking  the 
women,  she  was  willing  to  explain  it  to  any  inwardly  embar- 
rassed and  quaking  man  who  would  lend  his  ear. 

Suddenly  she  stopped  and  cried,  "Where  are  we?"  And 
there  came  a  peal  of  merry  laughter,  as  she  discovered  they 
had  gone  far  astray.  They  turned  and  set  off  in  the  right 
direction,  and  meantime  the  lecture  on  advance  feminism  con- 
tinued. Poor  Jimmie  was  in  a  panic — tumbled  this  way  and 
that.  He  had  considered  himself  a  radical,  because  he  believed 
in  expropriating  the  expropriators;  but  these  plans  for  over- 
throwing the  conventions  and  disbanding  the  home — these  left 
him  aghast.  And  trilled  into  his  ear  by  a  vivid  and  amazing 


74  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

young  thing  with  a  soft  hand  upon  his  arm  and  a  faint  intoxi- 
cating perfume  all  about  her !  Why  was  she  telling  these  things 
to  him?  What  did  she  mean?  What?  What? 


IV 

They  came  to  the  house  where  she  lived.  It  was  late  at 
night,  and  the  street  was  deserted.  It  was  up  to  Jimmie  to  say 
good  night,  but  somehow  he  did  not  know  how  to  say  it.  Com- 
rade Evelyn  gave  him  her  hand,  and  for  some  reason  did  not 
take  it  away  again.  Of  course  it  would  not  have  been  polite 
for  Jimmie  to  have  pushed  it  away.  So  he  held  it,  and  looked 
at  the  shadowy  form  before  him,  and  felt  his  knees  shaking. 
"Comrade  Higgins,"  said  the  brave,  girlish  voice,  "we  shall  be 
friends,  shall  we  not?"  And  of  course,  Jimmie  answered  that 
they  would — always !  And  the  girlish  voice  replied,  "I  am  glad!" 
And  then  suddenly  it  whispered,  "Good  night !"  and  the  shadowy 
form  turned  and  flitted  into  the  house. 

Jimmie  walked  away  with  the  strangest  tumult  in  his  soul. 
It  was  something  which  the  poets  had  been  occupied  for  cen- 
turies in  trying  to  portray,  but  Jimmie  Higgins  had  no  acquain- 
tance with  the  poets,  and  so  it  was  a  brand  new  thing  to  him, 
he  was  left  to  experience  the  shock  of  it  and  to  resolve  the 
problems  of  it  all  alone.  To  be  rolled  and  tossed  about  like  a 
man  in  a  blanket  at  a  college  hazing !  To  be  a  prey  to  bewilder- 
ment and  fear,  hope  and  longing,  despair  and  rebellion,  delicious 
excitement,  angry  self -contempt  and  tormenting  doubt !  Truly 
did  that  poet  divine  who  first  conceived  the  symbol  of  the 
mischievous  little  god,  who  steals  upon  an  unsuspecting  man 
and  shoots  him  through  the  heart  with  a  sharp  and  tormenting 
arrow ! 

The  worst  of  it  was,  Jimmie  couldn't  tell  Lizzie  about  it. 
The  first  time  in  four  years  that  he  had  had  a  trouble  he  could 
not  tell  Lizzie !  He  even  felt  ashamed,  as  he  came  home  and 
crawled  into  bed — as  if  he  had  done  some  dreadful  wrong  to 
Lizzie;  and  yet,  he  would  have  been  puzzled  to  tell  just  what 
the  wrong  was,  or  how  he  could  have  avoided  it.  It  was  not 
he  who  had  made  the  young  feminist  so  delicious  and  sweet  and 
frank  and  amazing.  It  was  not  he  who  had  made  the  little  god, 
and  brewed  the  poison  for  the  arrow's  tip.  No,  it  was  some 
power  greater  than  himself  that  had  prepared  this  situation, 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DALLIES  WITH  CUPID        75 

some  power  cruel  and  implacable,  which  plots  against  domestic 
tranquillity;  perhaps  it  was  some  hireling  of  capitalism,  which 
will  not  permit  a  propagandist  of  social  justice  to  do  his  work 
in  peace  of  soul ! 

Jimmie  tried  to  hide  what  was  going  on;  and  of  course — 
poor,  naive  soul — he  had  never  learned  to  hide  anything  in  his 
life,  and  now  was  too  late  to  begin.  The  next  time  the  local 
met,  the  women  were  saying  that  they  were  disappointed  in 
Comrade  Higgins;  they  had  thought  he  was  really  devoted  to 
the  cause,  but  they  saw  now  he  was  like  all  the  rest  of  the  men — 
his  head  had  been  turned  by  one  smile  on  a  pretty  face.  Instead 
of  attending  to  his  work,  he  was  following  that  Baskerville 
creature  about,  gazing  at  her  yearningly,  like  a  moon-calf,  mak- 
ing a  ninny  of  himself  before  the  whole  room.  And  he  with  a 
wife  and  three  babies  at  home,  waiting  for  him  and  thinking  he 
was  hustling  for  the  cause.  When  the  meeting  adjourned,  and 
the  Baskerville  creature  accepted  the  invitation  of  Comrade 
Gerrity  to  escort  her  home,  the  dismay  of  Comrade  Higgins 
was  so  evident  as  to  be  ludicrous  to  the  whole  room. 


In  the  interest  of  common  decency  it  was  necessary  for  the 
women  of  the  local  to  take  action  on  this  matter.  At  least,  a 
couple  of  them  thought  so,  and  quite  independently  and  without 
prearrangement  they  called  on  Lizzie  next  day  and  told  her  that 
she  should  come  more  frequently  to  meetings,  and  keep  herself 
acquainted  with  the  new  ideas  of  advanced  feminism.  And  so 
when  Jimmie  came  home  that  night,  he  found  his  wife  dissolved 
in  tears,  and  there  was  a  most  harrowing  scene. 

For  poor  Elizabeth  Huszar,  pronounced  Eleeza  Betooser,  had 
had  no  chance  whatever  to  familiarise  herself  with  the  new  ideas 
of  advanced  feminism.  Her  notions  of  "free  unions"  had  been 
derived  from  a  quite  different  world,  whose  ideas  were  not  new, 
but  on  the  contrary  very,  very  old,  and  were  "advanced"  only 
on  the  road  to  perdition.  She  judged  Jimmie's  behaviour  ac- 
cording to  thoroughly  old  standards,  and  she  was  broken-hearted, 
overwhelmed  with  grief  and  shame.  He  was  like  all  the  rest 
of  men — and  when  she  had  fondly  thought  he  was  different! 
He  despised  her  and  spit  upon  her — a  woman  he  had  picked  up  in 
a  brothel. 


76  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Poor  Jimmie  was  stunned.  He  was  conscious  of  no  disre- 
spect for  Lizzie,  it  had  not  occurred  to  him  to  think  that  she 
might  take  the  matter  that  way.  But  so  she  had  taken  it, 
beyond  doubt,  and  with  intensity  that  frightened  him.  He 
would  not  have  believed  that  so  many  tears  could  stream  from 
one  woman's  eyes — nor  that  his  good,  broad-faced,  honest  wife 
could  be  so  abject  in  her  misery.  "Oh,  I  knowed  it,  I  knowed 
it  all  along — it  would  be  that  way!  I  hadn't  never  ought  to 
married  you — you  know  I  told  you  so !" 

"But,  Lizzie!"  pleaded  the  husband.  "You're  mistaken. 
That  hadn't  nothin'  to  do  with  it." 

She  turned  upon  him  wildly,  her  fingers  stuck  out  as  if  she 
would  claw  him.  "You  mean  to  tell  me  if  you  hadn't  'a  married 
a  woman  off  the  street,  you'd  'a  gone  chasin'  a  fluffy-haired  girl  ? 
If  you'd  'a,  had  a  decent  wife,  that  you  knowed  had  some 
rights " 

"Lizzie !"  he  protested,  in  consternation.     "'Listen  here " 

But  she  was  not  to  be  stopped.  "Everybody  said  I  was  a 
fool;  but  I  went  an'  done  it,  'cause  you  swore  you'd  never  hold 
it  up  to  me !  An'  I  went  an'  had  them  children" — Lizzie  swept 
her  arm  at  the  children,  as  if  to  wipe  them  off  the  earth,  to  which 
they  had  come  by  a  cruel  mistake.  Jimmie  Junior,  who  was 
old  enough  to  know  that  something  serious  was  happening,  and 
whose  instinct  was  all  against  being  wiped  off  the  earth,  began 
to  howl  wildly;  and  that  set  off  the  little  ones — soon  they  were 
all  three  of  them  going  at  the  top  of  their  lungs.  "Boo-hoo- 
hoo !" 

It  was  truly  a  terrible  climax  to  a  romance.  Jimmie, 
almost  distracted,  seized  the  hand  of  his  injured  spouse.  "It'b 
all  nonsense!"  he  cried.  "What  they  been  tellin'  you?  I  ain't 
done  a  thing,  Lizzie !  I  only  walked  home  with  her  one  night.'* 

But  Lizzie  answered  that  one  night  was  plenty  enough— v 
she  knew  that  from  intimate  and  hateful  experience.  "And  I 
know  them  fluffy-headed  kind  that  frizzes  their  hair.  What  doea 
she  want  to  walk  home  at  night  with  married  men  fer?  And 
talkin'  about  the  things  she  does " 

"She  don't  mean  no  harm,  Lizzie — she's  tryin'  to  help 
workin'  women.  It's  what's  called  birth  control — she  wants 
to  teach  women " 

"If  she  wants  to  teach  women,  why  don't  she  talk  to  the 
women?  What's  she  all  the  time  talkin'  to  men  fer?  You 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DALLIES  WITH  CUPID        77 

think  you  can  tell  me  tales  like  that — me,  that's  been  what  I 
have?"    And  Lizzie  went  off  into  another  fit,  worse  than  ever. 


VI 

Jimmie  found  that  it  was  with  romance  as  with  martyrdom 
— there  was  a  lot  of  trouble  about  it  which  the  romancers  did 
not  mention.  He  really  felt  quite  dreadful,  for  he  had  a  deep 
regard  for  this  mother  of  his  little  ones,  and  he  would  not 
have  made  her  suffer  for  anything.  And  she  was  right,  too, 
he  had  to  admit — her  shots  went  deep  home.  "How'd  you  feel, 
if  you  was  to  find  out  I'd  been  walkin'  home  with  some  man  ?" 
When  it  was  put  to  him  that  way,  he  realised  that  he  would 
have  felt  very  badly  indeed. 

A  flood  of  old  emotions  came  back  to  him.  He  went  in 
memory  with  his  group  of  roystering  friends  to  the  house  of 
evil  where  he  had  first  met  Elizabeth  Huszar,  pronounced 
Eleeza  Betooser.  She  had  taken  him  to  her  room,  and  instead 
of  making  herself  agreeable  in  the  usual  way,  had  burst  into 
tears.  She  had  been  ill-treated,  and  was  wretchedly  lonely 
and  unhappy.  Jimmie  asked  why  she  did  not  quit  the  life, 
and  she  answered  that  she  had  tried  more  than  once,  but  she 
could  not  earn  a  living  wage;  and  anyhow,  because  she  was 
big  and  handsome,  the  bosses  would  never  let  her  alone,  and 
what  was  the  difference,  if  you  couldn't  keep  away  from  the 
men? 

They  sat  on  the  bed  and  talked,  and  Jimmie  told  her  a 
little  about  his  life,  and  she  tolcf  about  hers — a  pitiful  and 
moving  story.  She  had  been  brought  to  America  as  an  infant; 
her  father  had  been  killed  in  an  accident,  and  her  mother 
had  supported  several  children  by  scrub-work.  Lizzie  had 
grown  up  in  a  slum  of  the  far  east  side  of  New  York,  and  she 
could  not  remember  a  time  when  she  had  not  been  sexually 
preyed  upon;  lewd  little  boys  had  taught  her  tricks,  and  men 
would  buy  her  with  candy  or  food.  And  yet  there  had  been 
something  in  her  struggling  for  decency;  of  her  own  volition 
she  had  tried  to  go  to  school,  in  spite  of  her  rags;  and  then, 
when  she  was  thirteen,  she  had  answered  an  advertisement  for 
work  as  a  nurse-maid.  That  story  had  made  an  especial  im- 
pression upon  Jimmie — it  was  truly  a  most  pitiful  episode. 

Her  place  of  employment  had  been  a  "swell"  apartment, 


78  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

with  a  hall-boy  and  an  elevator — the  most  wonderful  place 
that  Lizzie  had  ever  beheld;  it  was  like  living  in  heaven,  and 
she  had  tried  so  hard  to  do  what  she  was  told,  and  be  worthy 
of  her  beautiful  mistress  and  the  lovely  baby.  But  she  had 
been  there  only  two  days  when  the  mistress  had  discovered 
vermin  on  the  baby,  and  had  come  to  Lizzie  and  insisted 
on  examining  her  head.  And  of  course  she  had  found  some- 
thing. "Them's  only  nits  \"  Lizzie  had  said ;  she  had  never 
heard  of  anybody  who  did  not  have  "nits"  in  their  hair.  But 
the  beautiful  lady  had  called  her  a  vile  creature,  and  ordered 
her  to  pack  up  her  things  and  get  out  of  the  house  at  once. 
And  so  Lizzie  had  had  to  wait  until  she  became  an  inmate  of  a 
brothel  before  anybody  took  the  trouble  to  teach  her  how  to  get 
the  "nits"  out  of  her  hair,  and  how  to  bathe,  and  to  clean  her 
finger-nails  and  otherwise  be  physically  decent. 

Jimmie  recalled  all  that,  and  he  fell  on  his  knees  before 
his  wife,  and  caught  her  two  hands  by  main  force,  and  swore 
to  her  that  he  had  not  done  any  wrong;  he  went  on  to  tell 
her  exactly  what  wrong  he  had  done,  which  was  the  best  way  to 
convince  her  that  he  had  not  done  any  worse.  He  vowed  again 
and  again  that  he  would  never,  never  dally  with  Cupid  again — 
he  would  see  Comrade  Baskerville  at  once  and  tell  her  it  was 
"all  off." 

And  so  Lizzie  looked  up  through  her  tears.  "No,"  she 
said,  "you  don't  need  to  see  her  at  all !" 

"What  shall  I  do,  then?" 

"Just  let  her  alone — don't  tell  her  nothin'.  She'll  know 
it's  off  all  right." 

VII 

But  when  you  have  a  dead  romance,  you  cannot  leave  it  to 
rot  on  the  highway;  you  are  driven  irresistibly  to  bury  it 
decently.  In  spite  of  his  solemn  promises,  Jimmie  found 
himself  thinking  all  the  time  about  Comrade  Baskerville,  and 
how  he  would  act  when  he  met  her  next  time — all  the  noble 
and  dignified  speeches  he  would  make  to  her.  He  must  manage 
to  be  alone  with  her;  for  of  course  he  could  not  say  such 
things  with  the  jealous  old  hags  of  the  local  staring  at  him. 
The  best  thing,  he  decided,  would  be  to  tell  her  the  frank  and 
honest  truth ;  to  tell  her  about  Lizzie,  and  how  good  and  worthy 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DALLIES  WITH  CUPID        79 

she  had  been,  and  how  deeply  he  realised  his  duty  to  her. 
And  then  tears  would  come  into  Comrade  Baskerville's  lovely 
eyes,  and  she  would  tell  him  that  she  honoured  his  high  sense 
of  marital  responsibility.  They  must  renounce;  but  of  course 
they  would  be  dear  and  true  friends — always,  always.  Jimmie 
was  holding  her  hands,  in  his  fancy,  as  he  said  these  affecting 
words :  Always !  Always !  He  knew  that  he  would  have  to  let  go 
of  the  hands,  but  he  was  reluctant  to  do  so,  and  he  had  not 
quite  got  to  the  point  of  doing  it  when,  walking  down  Jeffer- 
son Street  on  his  way  home  from  work — behold,  in  front  of  him 
a  trim,  eager  little  figure,  tripping  gaily,  with  a  jaunty  hat 
with  a  turkey-feather  stuck  on  one  side !  Jimmie  knew  the 
figure  a  block  away,  and  as  he  saw  it  coming  nearer,  his  heart 
leaped  up  and  hit  him  in  the  bottom  part  of  his  neck,  and  all 
his  beautiful  speeches  flew  helter-skelter  out  of  his  head. 

She  saw  him,  and  the  vivid,  welcoming  smile  came  upon  her 
face.  She  came  up  to  him,  and  their  hands  clasped.  "Why!" 
she  cried.  "What  a  pleasant  meeting!" 

Jimmie  gulped  twice,  and  then  began,  "Comrade  Basker- 

ville "  And  then  he  gulped  again,  and  began,  "Comrade 

Baskerville " 

She  stopped  him.  "I'm  not  Comrade  Baskerville,"  she  de- 
clared. 

He  could  not  get  the  meaning  of  these  unexpected  words. 
"What?"  he  asked. 

"Haven't  you  heard  the  news?"  she  said,  and  beamed  on 
him.  "I'm  Comrade  Mrs.  Gerrity." 

He  stared  at  her,  utterly  bewildered.  "I've  been  that  for 
twenty-four  whole  hours!  Congratulate  me!" 

Little  by  little  the  meaning  of  the  words  began  to  dawn 
in  Jimmie's  stupid  head.  "Comrade  Mrs.  Gerrity !"  he  echoed. 
"But — but — I  thought  you  didn't  believe  in  marriage." 

There  came  the  most  bewitching  smile,  a  smile  decorated 
with  two  rows  of  pearly  white  teeth.  "Don't  you  understand, 
Comrade  Higgins?  No  woman  believes  in  marriage — until  she 
meets  the  right  man." 

This  was  much  too  subtle.  Jimmie  was  still  gaping  open- 
mouthed.  "But  then,  I  thought — I  thought "  he  stopped 

again;  for  in  truth,  he  had  not  known  quite  what  he  thought, 
and  anyway,  it  seemed  futile  to  try  to  formulate  it  now. 

But  of  course,  she  knew,  without  his  telling  her;  she  knew 


80  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

the  meaning  of  his  look  of  dismay,  and  of  his  stammering  words. 
Being  a  kind  little  creature,  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm. 
"Comrade  Higgins,"  she  said,  "don't  think  I'm  too  mean!" 

"Mean?"  he  cried.     "Why,  no!     What?     How " 

"Try  to  imagine  you  were  a  girl,  Comrade  Higgins.  You 
can't  propose  to  a  man,  can  you?" 

"Why,  no— that  is " 

"That  is,  not  if  you  want  him  to  accept!  You  have  to 
make  him  do  it.  And  maybe  he's  shy,  and  don't  do  it,  and 
you  have  to  put  the  idea  in  his  head  for  him.  Or  maybe  he's 
not  sure  he  wants  you,  and  you  have  to  make  him  realise 
how  very  desirable  you  are!  Maybe  you  have  to  scare  him, 
making  him  think  you're  going  to  run  off  with  somebody  else ! 
Don't  you  see  how  it  is  with  a  girl  ?" 

Jimmie  was  still  badly  dazed,  but  he  saw  enough  to  enable 
him  to  stammer,  "Yes."  And  Comrade  Baskerville — that  is, 
Comrade  Mrs.  Gerrity — gave  him  her  hand  again.  "Comrade 
Higgins,"  she  said,  "you're  a  dear,  sweet  fellow,  and  you  won't 
be  too  angry  with  me,  will  you?  We'll  be  friends,  won't  we, 
Comrade  Higgins?" 

And  Jimmie  clasped  the  soft,  warm  hand,  and  gazed  into  the 
shining  brown  eyes,  and  he  made  a  part  of  the  wonderful  speech 
which  he  had  been  planning  as  he  walked.  He  said :  "Always ! 
Always!" 


CHAPTEK  VIII 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  HIS  FOOT  IN  IT 


HHHE  world  struggle  continued  with  constantly  increasing 
•••  ferocity.  All  summer  long  the  Germans  hammered  at  the 
French  and  British  lines;  while  the  British  hammered  at  the 
gates  of  Constantinople,  and  the  Italians  at  the  gates  of  Trieste. 
The  Germans  sent  their  giant  airships  to  drop  loads  of  bombs 
on  London,  and  their  submarines  to  sink  passenger-steamers 
and  hospital-ships.  Each  fresh  outrage  against  international 
law  became  the  occasion  of  more  letters  of  protest  from  the 
United  States,  and  of  more  controversies  in  the  newspapers,  and 
in  Congress,  and  in  Kumme's  bicycle-shop  on  Jefferson  Street, 
Leesville. 

In  this  last  place,  to  be  sure,  the  discussions  were  rather 
one-sided.  Practically  all  who  came  there  regarded  the  muni- 
tions industry  as  an  accursed  thing,  and  made  no  secret  of  their 
glee  at  the  misfortunes  which  befell  it;  at  shipyards  which 
caught  fire  and  burned  up,  at  railroad-bridges  and  ships  at  sea 
destroyed  by  mysterious  explosions.  Kumme,  a  wizened-up, 
grizzle-haired  old  fellow  with  a  stubby  nose  and  a  bullet-head, 
would  fall  to  cursing  in  a  mingling  of  English  and  German 
when  any  one  so  much  as  mentioned  the  fleets  of  ships  that 
went  across  the  water,  loaded  with  shells  to  kill  German  sol- 
diers; he  would  point  a  skinny  finger  at  whoever  would  listen 
to  him,  declaring  that  the  Germans  in  this  country  were  not 
slaves,  and  would  protect  their  Fatherland  from  the  perfidious 
British  and  their  Wall  Street  hirelings.  Kumme  took  a  news- 
paper printed  in  German,  and  a  couple  of  weeklies  published  in 
English  for  the  promotion  of  the  German  cause;  he  would 
mark  passages  in  these  papers  and  read  them  aloud — every- 
thing that  the  mind  of  man  could  recall  or  invent  that  was 

81 


82  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

discreditable  to  Britain,  to  France  and  Italy,  to  Wall  street, 
and  to  the  nation  which  allowed  Wall  Street  to  bamboozle  and 
exploit  it.  There  were  many  Americans  who  had  "muck- 
raked" their  own  country  in  the  interests  of  social  reform, 
and  had  praised  the  social  system  of  Germany.  These  argu- 
ments the  German  propagandists  now  found  useful,  and  Jim- 
mie  would  take  them  to  the  Socialist  local  and  pass  them  about. 
From  the  meeting  of  the  local  he  and  Meissner  would  go  to  the 
saloon  where  they  had  rendezvous  with  Jerry  Coleman,  who 
would  distribute  more  ten  dollar  bills  to  be  used  in  the  printing 
of  anti-war  literature. 

Old  Kumme  had  a  nephew  by  the  name  of  Heinrich,  who 
paid  him  a  visit  now  and  then.  He  was  a  tall,  fine-looking 
fellow,  who  spoke  much  better  English  than  his  uncle,  and 
wore  better  clothes.  Finally  he  came  to  stay,  and  Kumme 
announced  that  he  was  to  help  in  the  shop.  They  didn't  need 
any  help  that  Jimmie  could  see,  and  certainly  not  from  a 
fellow  like  Heinrich,  who  couldn't  tell  a  spoke  from  a  handle- 
bar; but  it  was  none  of  Jimmie's  business,  so  Heinrich  put  on 
working  clothes,  and  spent  a  couple  of  weeks  sitting  behind 
the  counter  conversing  in  low  tones  with  men  who  came  to  see 
him.  After  a  while  he  took  to  going  out  again,  and  finally 
announced  that  he  had  secured  a  job  in  the  Empire. 

II 

And  then  to  the  hangers-on  in  ihe  shop  there  was  another 
addition — an  Irish  workingman  named  Keilly.  The  Irishman 
was  a  peculiar  problem  in  the  war — the  thorn  in  the  Allied 
conscience,  the  weak  spot  in  their  armour,  the  broken  link 
in  their  chain  of  arguments;  and  so  every  German  was  happy 
when  an  Irishman  entered  the  room.  This  fellow  Eeilly  came 
to  have  a  punctured  tire  mended,  and  stopped  to  tell  what  he 
thought  about  the  world-situation.  Old  man  Kumme  slapped 
him  over  the  back,  and  shook  him  by  the  hand,  and  told  him 
he  was  the  right  sort,  and  to  come  again.  So  Eeilly  took  to 
hanging  about;  he  would  pull  from  his  pocket  a  paper  called 
"Hibernia,"  and  Kumme  would  produce  from  under  the 
counter  a  paper  called  "Germania,"  and  the  two  would  de- 
nounce "perfidious  Albion"  by  the  hour.  Jimmie,  bending 
over  the  straightening  of  a  sprocket,  would  look  up  and  grin, 
and  exclaim,  "You  bet!" 


JIMMIE  BIGGINS  PUTS  HIS  FOOT  IN  IT         83 

It  was  winter-time,  and  darkness  came  early,  and  Jimmie 
was  doing  his  work  by  electric  light  in  the  back  of  the  shop, 
when  Keilly  came  and  mysteriously  drew  him  into  a  corner. 
Did  he  really  mean  what  he  said  about  hatred  of  war,  and  will- 
ingness to  fight  against  it  ?  The  Empire  Shops  were  now  turn- 
ing out  thousands  of  shell-casings  every  day,  to  be  used  in 
the  murder  of  men.  It  was  useless  to  try  to  start  a  strike, 
there  were  so  many  spies  at  work,  and  they  fired  every  man 
who  opened  his  mouth;  if  an  outsider  tried  it  they  would  send 
him  to  jail — for  of  course  old  Granitch  had  the  city  government 
in  his  vest-pocket. 

All  this  was  an  old  story  to  Jimmie ;  but  now  the  Irishman 
went  on  to  a  new  proposition.  There  was  a  way  to  stop  the 
work  of  the  Empire,  a  way  that  had  been  tried  in  other  places, 
and  had  worked.  Reilly  knew  where  to  get  some  T.NYT. — an 
explosive  many  times  more  powerful  than  dynamite.  They 
could  make  bombs  out  of  the  steel  tubing  of  bicycles,  and 
Jimmie,  knowing  the  Empire  Shops  as  he  did,  could  find  a 
way  to  get  in  and  arrange  matters.  There  was  big  money  in 
it — the  fellows  who  did  that  job  might  live  on  Easy  Street 
the  rest  of  their  lives. 

Jimmie  was  stunned.  He  had  been  perfectly  sincere  in 
classifying  German  spies  with  sea-serpents;  and  here  was  a 
sea-serpent  right  before  his  eyes,  raising  his  head  through  the 
floor  of  Kumme's  bicycle-shop ! 

Jimmie  answered  that  he  had  never  had  anything  to  do  with 
that  sort  of  thing.  That  wasn't  the  way  to  stop  war;  that  was 
only  making  more  war.  The  other  began  to  argue  with  him, 
showing  that  it  wouldn't  hurt  anybody;  the  explosion  would 
take  place  at  night,  and  all  that  would  be  damaged  would  be 
Abel  Granitch's  purse.  But  Jimmie  was  obdurate ;  fortunately 
one  thing  that  had  been  incessantly  pounded  into  his  head  at 
the  local  was  that  the  movement  could  not  use  conspiracy, 
it  must  work  by  open  propaganda,  winning  the  minds  and 
consciences  of  men. 

First  the  Irishman  became  angry,  and  called  him  a  coward 
and  a  molly-coddle.  Then  he  became  suspicious,  and  wanted 
to  know  if  Jimmie  would  sell  him  out  to  the  Empire.  Jimmie 
laughed  at  this ;  he  had  no  love  for  Abel  Granitch — the  damned 
old  skunk  might  do  his  own  spying.  Jimmie  would  simply 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter,  one  way  or  the  other. 


84  JIMMIE  BIGGINS 

And  so  the  project  was  dropped;  but  the  little  machinist  was 
moved  to  keep  his  eyes  open  after  that,  and  he  made  note  of 
how  many  Germans,  all  strangers,  were  making  the  shop  a 
meeting  place;  also  the  quick  intimacy  which  had  developed 
between  the  Irishman  and  Heinrich,  Kumme's  nephew  who 
held  himself  so  straight  and  had  no  back  to  his  head. 

Matters  came  to  a  climax  with  startling  suddenness — the 
explosion  of  a  bomb,  though  not  the  kind  which  Jimmie  was 
expecting.  It  was  an  evening  in  February,  just  as  he  was 
about  to  close  up,  when  he  saw  the  door  of  the  shop  open,  and 
four  men  walk  in.  They  came  with  a  peculiar,  business-like 
air,  two  of  them  to  the  puzzled  Jimmie,  and  the  other  two  to 
Kumme.  One  turned  back  the  lapel  of  his  coat,  showing  a  large 
gold  star,  and  announcing,  "I  am  an  agent  of  the  government, 
and  you  are  under  arrest/'  And  at  the  same  time  the  other  seized 
Jimmie's  arms  and  slipped  a  pair  of  handcuffs  over  his  wrists. 
He  passed  his  hands  over  his  prisoner,  a  ceremony  known  as 
"frisking";  and  at  the  same  time  the  other  men  had  seized 
Kumme.  Jimmie  saw  two  more  men  enter  at  the  rear  door  of 
the  shop,  but  they  had  nothing  to  do,  for  both  Jimmie  and 
Kumme  had  been  too  much  startled  to  make  any  move  to 
escape. 

They  were  led  out  to  an  automobile,  shoved  in  and  whirled 
away.  No  questions  were  answered,  so  after  a  bit  they  stopped 
asking  questions  and  sat  still,  reflecting  upon  all  the  sins  they 
had  ever  committed  in  their  lives,  and  upon  the  chances  of 
these  sins  being  known  to  the  police. 


in 

Jimmie  thought  he  was  going  to  jail,  of  course ;  but  instead 
they  took  him  to  the  Post  Office  building,  to  an  upstairs  room. 
Kumme  was  taken  to  another  room,  and  Jimmie  did  not  see 
him  again ;  all  that  Jimmie  had  time  to  know  or  to  think  about 
was  a  stern-faced  young  man  who  sat  at  a  desk  and  put  him  on 
a  griddle.  "It  is  my  duty  to  inform  you  that  everything  you 
state  may  be  used  against  you/'  said  this  young  man ;  and  then, 
without  giving  Jimmie  a  chance  to  grasp  the  meaning  of  these 
words,  he  began  firing  questions  at  him.  All  through  the 
ordeal  the  two  detectives  stood  by  his  side,  and  in  a  corner 
of  the  room,  at  another  desk,  a  stenographer  was  busily  recording 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  HIS  FOOT  IN  IT         85 

what  he  said.  Jimmie  knew  there  were  such  things  as  stenog- 
raphers— for  had  he  not  come  near  falling  in  love  with  one 
only  a  short  time  before? 

"Your  name?"  said  the  stern-faced  young  man;  and  then, 
"Where  do  you  live  ?"  And  then,  "Tell  me  all  you  know  about 
this  bomb-conspiracy." 

"But  I  don't  know  nothin'  I"  cried  Jimmie. 

"You  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Federal  government,"  replied 
the  young  man,  "and  your  only  chance  will  be  to  make  a  clean 
breast.  If  you  will  help  us,  you  may  get  off." 

"But  I  don't  know  nothinM"  cried  Jimmie,  again. 

"You  have  heard  talk  about  dynamiting  the  Empire  Shops  ?" 

"Y-yes,  sir." 

"Who?" 

"A  man "    Jimmie  got  that  far,  and  then  he  recollected 

the  promise  he  had  given.    "I — I  can't  tell !"  he  said. 

"Why  not?" 

"It  wouldn't  be  right." 

"Do  you  believe  in  dynamiting  buildings?" 

"No,  sir !"  Jimmie  put  into  this  reply  a  note  of  tense  sin- 
cerity; and  so  the  other  began  to  argue  with  him.  Atrocious 
crimes  had  been  committed  all  over  the  country,  and  the  govern- 
ment wished  to  put  a  stop  to  them;  surely  it  was  the  duty  of  a 
decent  citizen  to  give  what  help  he  could.  Jimmie  listened  until 
a  sweat  of  anxiety  stood  out  on  his  forehead;  but  he  could  not 
bring  himself  to  "peach"  on  a  fellow-workingman.  No,  not  if 
he  were  sent  to  jail  for  ten  or  twenty  years,  as  the  stern-faced 
young  man  told  him  might  happen. 

"You  told  Eeilly  you  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with 
bombs  ?"  asked  the  young  man ;  and  Jimmie  answered,  "Sure,  I 
did!"  And  his  poor  head  was  so  addled  that  he  didn't  even 
realise  that  in  his  reply  he  had  told  what  he  had  been  vow- 
ing he  would  never  tell! 

The  questioner  seemed  to  know  all  about  everything,  so  it 
was  easy  for  him  to  lead  Jimmie  to  tell  how  he  had  heard 
Kumme  cursing  the  Empire  Shops,  and  the  country,  and  the 
President;  how  he  had  seen  Kumme  whispering  to  Reilly,  and 
to  Germans  whose  names  he  had  not  learned,  and  how  he  had 
seen  Heinrich,  Kumme's  nephew,  cutting  up  lengths  of  steel 
tubing.  Then  the  questioner  asked  about  Jerry  Coleman. 
How  much  money  had  Jimmie  got,  and  just  what  had  he  done 


86  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

with  it?  Jimmie  refused  to  name  other  people;  but  when  the 
young  man  made  the  insinuation  that  Jimmie  might  have  kept 
some  of  the  money  for  himself,  the  little  machinist  exclaimed 
with  passionate  intensity — not  one  dollar  had  he  kept,  nor  his 
friend  Meissner  either;  they  had  given  statements  to  Jerry 
Coleman,  and  this  though  many  a  time  they  had  been  hard  up 
for  their  rent.  The  police  could  ask  Comrade  Gerrity  and  Com- 
rade Mary  Allen,  and  the  other  members  of  the  local. 

So  the  questioner  led  Jimmie  on  to  talk  about  the  Germans 
in  the  movement.  Schneider,  the  brewer,  for  example — he  was 
one  of  those  who  cursed  the  Allies  most  vehemently,  and  he  had 
been  in  this  bomb-conspiracy.  Jimmie  was  'indignant;  Com- 
rade Schneider  was  as  good  a  Socialist  as  you  could  find,  and 
Socialists  had  nothing  to  do  with  bombs!  But  young  Emil 
Forster — he  had  been  making  explosives  in  his  spare  hours, 
had  he  not?  At  which  Jimmie  became  still  more  outraged. 
He  knew  young  Emil  well;  the  boy  was  a  carpet-designer  and 
musician,  and  if  anybody  had  told  such  tales  about  him,  they 
were  lying,  that  was  all.  The  questioner  went  on  for  an  hour 
or  so,  tormenting  poor  Jimmie  with  such  doubts  and  fears; 
until  finally  he  dropped  a  little  of  his  sternness  of  manner, 
and  told  Jimmie  that  he  had  merely  been  trying  him  out,  to 
see  what  he  knew  about  various  men  whose  pro-German  feel- 
ings had  brought  them  under  suspicion.  No,  the  government 
had  no  evidence  of  crime  against  Schneider  or  Forster,  or  any 
of  the  bona-fide  Socialists.  They  were  just  plain  fools,  letting 
themselves  be  used  as  tools  of  German  plotters,  who  were 
spending  money  like  water  to  make  trouble  in  munitions 
factories  all  over  the  country. 


IV 

The  questioner,  who  explained  himself  as  a  "special  agent" 
of  the  Department  of  Justice,  went  on  to  read  Jimmie  a  lecture. 
A  sincere  man  like  himself  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  let  himself 
be  taken  in  by  German  conspirators,  who  were  trying  to  break 
up  American  industry,  to  lead  American  labour  by  the  nose. 

"But  they  want  to  stop  the  making  of  munitions!"  cried 
Jimmie. 

"But  that's  only  so  that  Germany  can  make  more  muni- 
tions !" 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  HIS  FOOT  IN  IT         87 

"But  I'm  opposed  to  their  being  made  in  Germany,  too!" 

"What  can  you  do  to  stop  it  in  Germany?" 

"I'm  an  international  Socialist.  When  I  oppose  war  in  my 
own  country,  I  help  the  Socialists  to  oppose  it  in  other  coun- 
tries. I  ain't  a-going  to  stop — not  so  long  as  I've  got  any 
breath  left  in  me !"  And  here  was  Comrade  Jimmie,  delivering 
a  sermon  on  pacifism  to  the  " special  agent"  of  the  government,' 
who  held  his  fate  in  his  hands!  But  no  one  was  going  to 
defend  war  to  Jimmie  Higgins  and  not  be  answered — even 
though  Jimmie  might  go  to  jail  for  the  rest  of  his  life! 

The  young  man  laughed — more  genially  than  Jimmie  would 
have  thought  possible  at  the  start  of  this  grilling.  "Higgins," 
he  said,  "you're  a  good-natured  idiot.  You  can  thank  your  lucky, 
stars  that  one  of  the  men  you  trusted  happened  to  be  a  govern- 
ment detective.  If  we  didn't  know  the  truth  about  you,  you 
might  have  had  a  hard  time  clearing  yourself." 

Jimmie's  jaw  had  fallen.  "A  government  detective!  Who 
is  the  government  detective?" 

"Keilly,"  said  the  young  man. 

"Keilly?    But  it  was  him  that  tempted  me!" 

"Well,  congratulate  yourself  that  you  resisted  temptation!" 

"But  maybe  he  tempted  Heinrich  too !" 

"No — Heinrich  didn't  have  to  be  tempted.  It  was  on 
account  of  Heinrich  that  we  began  the  investigation.  He  has 
been  making  explosives  and  planting  them  all  over  the  country. 
His  name  isn't  Heinrich,  and  he  isn't  a  nephew  of  Kumme; 
his  name  is  von  Holtz,  and  he's  a  Prussian  officer,  a  personal 
friend  of  the  Kaiser." 

Jimmie  was  speechless.  For  the  love  of  Mike!  He  had 
been  sitting  in  the  back  part  of  old  Kumme's  bicycle-shop, 
filling  his  pipe  from  the  tobacco-pouch  of  a  personal  friend  of 
the  Kaiser!  He  had  called  this  personal  friend  of  the  Kaiser 
a  dub  and  a  jack-ass,  informing  him  that  a  real  mechanic 
could  put  a  ball-bearing  together  while  he,  the  personal  friend 
of  the  Kaiser,  was  spitting  on  his  hands.  Could  you  beat  it? 

Mr.  Harrod,  the  "special  agent,"  informed  Jimmie  that  he 
would  have  to  testify  as  to  what  he  knew;  and  Jimmie  was  so 
indignant  at  the  way  he  had  been  taken  in  that  he  was  willing 
to  do  so.  He  would  have  to  give  bond  to  appear,  added  the 
other ;  did  he  know  any  one  who  would  vouch  for  him  ?  Jimmie 
racked  his  harassed  brain.  Comrade  Dr.  Service  might  con- 


88  JIMMIB  HIGGINS 

sent,  if  he  were  quite  sure  that  Jimmie  had  not  really  meant 
to  help  the  Germans.  Mr.  Harrod  kindly  consented  to  give  this 
assurance,  and  called  up  Dr.  Service,  whom  he  seemed  to  know, 
and  told  him  the  circumstances:  Dr.  Service  finally  said  that 
he  would  put  up  a  couple  of  thousand  dollars  to  guarantee 
Jimmie's  appearance  before  the  grand  jury  and  at  the  trial. 
Mr.  Harrod  added  that  if  Dr.  Service  would  promise  to  come 
in  the  morning  and  attend  to  the  matter,  the  government  would 
take  his  word  and  let  the  witness  go  for  the  night.  The  doctor 
promised,  and  Jimmie  was  told  that  he  was  free  till  ten  o'clock 
next  morning.  He  went  out,  like  a  sky-lark  escaping  from  a 
cage! 


He  had  been  warned  not  to  talk  to  any  one,  so  he  told 
Lizzie  that  he  had  been  kept  late  to  make  repairs  on  a  motor- 
cycle. And  next  morning  he  got  up  at  the  usual  hour,  to 
avoid  exciting  suspicion,  and  went  and  stared  at  the  shop, 
which  was  locked  up,  with  a  policeman  on  guard.  He  bought 
a  copy  of  the  Leesville  "Herald/'  and  read  the  thrilling  story 
of  the  German  plot  which  had  been  unearthed  in  Leesville. 
There  were  half  a  dozen  conspirators  under  arrest,  and  more 
than  a  dozen  bombs  had  been  found,  all  destined  to  be  set  off 
in  the  Empire  Shops.  Franz  Heinrich  von  Holtz,  who  had 
blown  up  a  bridge  in  Canada  and  put  an  infernal  machine  on 
board  a  big  Atlantic  liner,  had  been  nailed  at  last ! 

Half  an  hour  before  time,  Jimmie  was  waiting  at  the  Post 
Office  building,  and  when  Comrade  Dr.  Service  arrived,  they 
went  in  and  signed  the  bond.  Coming  out  again,  the  grim  and 
forbidding  doctor  ordered  Jimmie  into  his  car,  and  oh,  what  a 
dressing-down  he  did  give  him!  He  had  Jimmie  where  he 
wanted  him — right  over  his  knees — and  before  he  let  him  up 
he  surely  did  make  him  burn!  The  little  machinist  had  been 
so  cock-sure  of  himself ;  going  ahead  to  end  the  war,  by  stopping 
the  shipping  of  munitions,  and  paying  no  heed  to'  warnings 
from  men  older  and  wiser  than  himself !  And  now  see  what  he 
had  got  himself  in  for — arrested  with  a  gang  of  fire-bugs  and 
desperadoes,  under  the  control  and  in  the  pay  of  a  personal 
friend  of  the  Kaiser! 

Poor  Jimmie  couldn't  put  up  much  of  a  defence:  he  was 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  HIS  FOOT  IN  IT         89 

cowed,  for  once.  He  could  only  say  that  he  had  had  no  evil 
intention — he  had  merely  been  agitating  against  the  trade  in 
munitions — a  wicked  thing 

"Wicked?"  broke  in  the  Comrade  Doctor.  "The  thing  upon 
which  the  freedom  of  mankind  depends  V 

"W-what?"  exclaimed  Jimmie;  for  these  words  sounded  to 
him  like  sheer  lunacy. 

The  other  explained.  "A  nation  that  means  to  destroy  its 
neighbours  sets  to  work  and  puts  all  its  energies  into  making 
guns  and  shells.  The  free  peoples  of  the  world  won't  follow 
suit — you  can't  persuade  them  to  do  it,  because  they  don't  believe 
in  war,  they  can't  realise  that  their  neighbours  intend  to  make 
war.  So,  when  they  are  attacked,  their  only  chance  for  life 
is  to  go  out  into  the  open  market  and  buy  the  means  of  defence. 
And  you  propose  to  deprive  them  of  that  right — to  betray  them, 
to  throw  them  under  the  hoofs  of  the  war-monster!  You, 
who  call  yourself  a  believer  in  justice,  make  yourself  a  tool  of 
such  a  conspiracy!  You  take  German  money " 

"I  never  took  no  German  money !"  cried  Jimmie,  wildly. 

"Didn't  Kumme  pay  you  money?'' 

"But  I  worked  in  his  shop — I  done  my  ten  hours  a  day 
right  straight!" 

"And  this  fellow  Jerry  Coleman?  Hasn't  he  given  you 
money?" 

"But  that  was  for  propaganda — he  was  agent  for  Labour's 
National  Peace  Council " 

And  the  Comrade  Doctor  fairly  snorted.  "How  could  you 
be  such  an  ass?  Don't  you  read  the  news?  But  no — of  course 
you  don't — you  only  read  German  dope!"  And  the  Comrade 
Doctor  drew  out  his  pocket-book,  which  was  bursting  with 
clippings,  and  selected  one  from  a  New  York  paper,  telling 
how  the  government  was  proceeding  against  the  officials  of  an 
organisation  called  "Labour's  National  Peace  Council"  for 
conspiring  to  cause  strikes  and  violence.  The  founder  of  the 
organisation  was  a  person  known  as  "the  Wolf  of  Wall  Street"; 
the  funds  had  been  furnished  by  a  Prussian  army  officer,  an 
attache  of  the  German  legation,  who  had  used  his  official 
immunity  to  incite  conspiracy  and  wholesale  destruction  of 
property  in  a  friendly  country.  What  had  Jimmie  to  say  to 
that? 

And  poor  Jimmie  for  once  had  nothing  to  say.     He  sat, 


90  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

completely  crushed.  Not  merely  the  money  which  he  had  got 
from  Kumme  on  Saturday  night,  but  also  the  ten  dollar  bills 
which  Jerry  Coleman  had  been  slipping  into  his  hand — they 
too  had  come  from  the  Kaiser!  Was  the  whole  radical  move- 
ment to  be  taken  over  by  the  Kaiser,  and  Jimmie  Higgins  put 
out  of  his  job? 


CHAPTER  IX 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  RETURNS  TO  NATURE 


IT"  UMME'S  bicycle-shop  went  out  of  business,  and  'its  contents 
"•  were  sold  at  auction.  Jimmie  Higgins  watched  the  process 
wistfully,  reflecting  how,  if  he  had  not  wasted  his  substance 
on  Socialist  tracts,  if  he  had  saved  a  bit  of  his  wages  like  any 
normal  human  being,  he  might  have  bought  this  little  business 
and  got  a  start  in  life.  But  alas,  such  hopes  were  not  for 
Jimmie !  He  must  remain  in  the  condition  which  the  President 
of  his  country  described  as  "industrial  serfdom";  he  must 
continue  to  work  for  some  other  man's  profit,  to  be  at  the 
mercy  of  some  other  man's  whim. 

He  found  himself  a  job  in  the  railroad-shops;  but  in  a 
couple  of  weeks  came  an  organiser,  trying  to  start  a  union  in 
the  place.  Jimmie,  of  course,  joined;  how  could  he  refuse? 
And  so  the  next  time  he  went  to  get  his  pay  he  found  a  green 
slip  in  his  envelope,  informing  him  that  the  Atlantic  Western 
Eailroad  Company  would  no  longer  require  his  services.  No 
explanation  was  given,  and  none  sought — for  Jimmie  was  old 
in  the  ways  of  American  wage-slavery,  euphemistically  referred 
to  as  "industrial  serfdom." 

He  got  another  start  as  helper  to  a  truckman.  It  was  the 
hardest  work  he  had  yet  done — all  the  harder  because  the  boss 
was  a  dull  fellow  who  would  not  talk  about  politics  or  the  war. 
So  Jimmie  was  discontented;  perhaps  the  spring-time  was 
getting  into  his  blood ;  at  any  rate,  he  hunted  through  his  Sun- 
day paper,  and  came  on  an  advertisement  of  a  farmer  who 
wanted  a  "hand."  It  was  six  miles  out  in  the  country,  and 
Jimmie,  remembering  his  walk  with  the  Candidate,  treated  him- 
self to  a  Sunday  afternoon  excursion.  He  knew  nothing  about 
farm-work,  and  said  so;  but  the  munition-factories  had  drained 

91 


92  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

so  much,  labour  from  the  land  that  the  farmer  was  glad  to  get 
anybody.  He  had  a  "tenant-house"  on  his  place,  and  on  Mon- 
day morning  Jimmie  hired  his  former  boss — the  truckman — 
to  move  his  few  sticks  of  furniture;  he  bade  farewell  to  his 
little  friend  Meissner,  and  next  day  was  learning  to  milk  cows 
and  steer  a  plough. 

So  Jimmie  came  back  to  the  bosom  of  his  ancient  Mother. 
But  alas,  he  came,  not  to  find  joy  and  health,  not  as  a  free 
man,  to  win  his  own  way  and  make  a  new  life  for  himself;  he 
came  as  a  soil-slave,  to  drudge  from  dawn  to  dark  for  a  hire 
that  barely  kept  him  going.  The  farmer  was  the  owner  of 
Jimmie's  time,  and  Jimmie  disliked  him  heartily,  because  he 
was  surly-tempered  and  stingy,  abusing  his  horses  and  nagging 
at  his  hired  man.  Jimmie's  education  in  farm-economics  was 
not  thorough  enough  to  enable  him  to  realise  that  John  Cutter 
was  as  much  of  a  slave  as  himself — bound  by  a  mortgage  to 
Ashton  Chalmers,  President  of  the  First  National  Bank  of 
Leesville.  John  drudged  from  dawn  to  dark,  just  as  Jimmie 
did,  and  in  addition  had  all  the  worry  and  fear;  his  wife  was  a 
sallow  and  hollow-chested  drudge,  who  took  as  many  bottles  of 
patent-medicine  as  poor  Mrs.  Meissner. 

But  Jimmie  kept  fairly  cheerful  because  he  was  learning 
new  things,  and  because  he  saw  how  good  it  was  for  the  babies, 
who  were  getting  fresh  air  and  better  food  than  they  had  ever 
had  in  their  little  lives  before.  All  summer  long  he  ploughed 
and  harrowed  and  hoed,  he  tended  horses  and  cows  and  pigs 
and  chickens,  and  drove  to  town  with  farm-truck  to  be  sold. 
He  would  be  too  tired  at  night  even  to  read  his  Socialist  papers ; 
for  six  months  he  let  the  world  go  its  way  unhindered — its  way 
of  desperate  strife  and  colossal  anguish.  It  was  the  time  when 
the  German  hordes  hurled  themselves  against  the  fortifications 
of  Verdun.  For  five  horrible  months  they  came  on,  wave  upon 
endless  wave;  the  people  of  France  set  their  teeth  and  swore, 
"They  shall  not  pass  \"  and  the  rest  of  civilisation  waited,  hold- 
ing its  breath. 

II 

The  only  chance  Jimmie  had  to  talk  about  these  matters 
was  of  a  Saturday  night  when  he  strolled  up  to  the  store  at  a 
near-by  cross-roads.  The  men  he  met  here  were  of  a  new  type 
to  him — as  different  from  factory  people  as  if  they  came  from 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  RETURNS  TO  NATURE         93 

another  planet.  Jimmie  had  been  taught  to  laugh  at  them  as 
"hayseeds";  intellectually  he  regarded  them  as  relics  of  a 
vanished  age,  so  of  course  he  could  not  listen  to  their  talk  very 
long  without  "butting  in."  He  began  with  the  declaration 
that  the  Allies  were  as  bad  as  the  Germans.  He  got  away  with 
that,  because  they  had  all  been  taught  to  hate  the  "Britishers"  in 
their  schoolbooks,  and  they  didn't  know  very  much  about 
Frenchmen  and  "Eye-talians."  But  when  Jimmie  went  on  to 
say  that  the  American  government  was  as  bad  as  the  German 
government — that  all  governments  were  'run  by  capitalists, 
and  all  went  to  war  for  foreign  markets  and  such  plunder — 
then  what  a  hornets'  nest  he  brought  about  his  ears!  "You 
mean  to  say  American  armies  would  do  what  them  Proosians 
done  in  Belgium?"  And  when  Jimmie  answered  Yes,  an 
indignant  citizen  rose  from  his  seat  on  a  cracker-box,  and 
tapped  him  on  the  shoulder  and  said :  "Look  here,  young  feller, 
you  better  run  along  home.  You'll  git  yerself  a  coat  of  tar 
and  feathers  if  you  talk  too  much  round  these  parts." 

So  Jimmie  shut  up  for  a  while;  and  when  he  went  out 
with  his  armful  of  purchases,  an  aged,  white-whiskered  patri- 
arch who  had  been  listening  got  up  and  followed  him  out. 
"I'm  goin'  your  way,"  he  said.  "Git  in  with  me."  Jimmie 
climbed  into  the  buggy;  and  while  the  bony  old  mare  ambled 
along  through  the  summer-night  the  driver  asked  questions 
about  Jimmie's  life.  Where  had  he  been  brought  up?  How 
had  it  been  possible  for  a  man  to  live  all  his  life  in  America, 
and  know  so  little  about  his  native  land? 

Peter  Drew  was  this  old  farmer's  name,  and  he  had  been 
in  the  first  battle  of  Bull  Run,  and  had  fought  with  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia  all  the  way  to  Richmond.  So  he  knew 
how  American  armies  behave ;  he  could  tell  Jimmie  about  a  mil- 
lion free  men  who  had  rushed  to  arms  to  save  their  nation's  in- 
tegrity, and  had  made  a  clean  job  of  it,  and  then  gone  quietly 
back  to  their  work  at  farm  and  forge.  Jimmie  had  heard 
Comrade  Mary  Allen,  the  Quaker,  make  the  statement  that 
"Force  never  settled  anything."  He  repeated  this  now,  and  the 
other  replied  that  an  American  ought  to  be  the  last  person  in 
the  world  to  make  such  a  statement,  for  his  country  had  pro- 
vided the  best  illustration  in  history  of  the  importance  of  a 
good  job  of  spanking.  It  was  force  that  had  settled  the  slavery 
question — and  settled  it  so  that  now  you  might  travel  in  the 


94  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

South  and  have  a  hard  time  to  find  a  man  that  would  want 
to  unsettle  it. 

But  Jimmie  knew  nothing  about  all  that ;  he  knew  nothing 
about  anything  in  America.  The  old  man  said  it  frightened 
him  to  realise  that  the  country  had  let  a  man  grow  up  in  it 
with  so  little  understanding  of  its  soul.  All  that  precious 
tradition,  utterly  dead  so  far  as  Jimmie  was  concerned!  All 
those  heroes  who  had  died  to  make  free  the  land  in  which  he 
lived,  and  to  keep  it  free — and  he  did  not  know  their  names, 
he  did  not  even  know  the  names  of  the  great  battles  they  had 
fought !  The  old  man's  voice  trembled  and  he  laid  his  hand  on 
Jimmie's  knee. 

The  little  Socialist  tried  to  explain  that  he  had  dreams  of 
his  own.  He  was  fighting  for  international  freedom — his 
patriotism  was  higher  and  wider  than  any  one  country.  And 
that  was  all  right,  said  the  other,  but  why  kick  down  the  ladder 
by  which  you  had  climbed — and  especially  when  you  had  per- 
haps not  entirely  finished  climbing?  Why  not  know  the  better 
side  of  your  own  country,  and  appeal  to  it?  Peter  Drew  went 
on  to  tell  of  a  speech  he  had  heard  Abraham  Lincoln  make, 
and  to  quote  things  Lincoln  had  said ;  could  Jimmie  doubt  that 
Lincoln  would  have  opposed  the  rule  of  the  country  by  Wall 
Street?  And  when  a  country  had  been  shaped  and  guided  by 
such  men  as  Lincoln,  why  trample  its  face  and  besmirch  its 
good  name — just  because  there  were  in  it  some  evil  men  con- 
tending against  its  ideals  of  freedom  and  democracy  ? 

This  old  soldier  lived  about  a  mile  from  Jimmie,  and  asked 
his  new  friend  to  come  and  see  him.  So  the  next  afternoon, 
which  was  Sunday,  Lizzie  put  on  a  newly  starched  dress,  and 
Jimmie  packed  the  two  littlest  infants  ,in  the  double  perambu- 
lator, and  took  Jimmie  Junior's  chubby  hand,  and  they  trudged 
down  the  road  to  the  farm-house  which  the  old  man's  father 
had  built.  Mrs.  Drew  was  a  sweet-faced,  rather  tired  looking 
old  lady,  but  her  pale  eyes  seemed  to  smile  with  hospitality, 
and  she  brought  out  a  basket  of  ripe  peaches,  and  sat  and 
chatted  sympathetically  with  Lizzie  about  the  care  of  babies, 
while  Jimmie  and  the  old  man  sat  under  the  shade  of  an  elm 
tree  by  the  kitchen-door  and  discussed  American  history.  Jim- 
mie listened  to  stories  of  battle  and  imprisonment,  of  monster 
heroisms  and  self-immolations.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  been 
looking  at  war  from  the  outside,  as  it  were;  but  now  he  got  a 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  RETURNS  TO  NATURE        95 

glimpse  of  the  soul  of  it,  he  began  to  understand  how  a  man 
might  be  willing  to  leave  his  home  and  his  loved  ones,  and 
march  out  to  fight  and  suffer  and  die  to  save  his  country  in 
which  he  believed. 

And  here  was  another  new  idea:  this  old  fellow  had  been  a 
soldier,  had  fought  through  four  years  of  incessant  battles,  and 
yet  he  had  not  lost  his  goodness.  He  was  kind,  gentle,  generous ; 
he  gave  dignity  to  the  phrases  at  which  Jimmie  had  been  taught 
to  mock.  It  was  impossible  not  to  respect  such  a  man;  and  so 
little  by  little  Jimmie  was  made  to  reflect  that  there  might  be 
such  a  thing  as  the  soul  of  America,  about  which  Peter  Drew 
was  all  the  time  talking.  Perhaps  there  was  really  more  to 
the  country  than  Wall  Street  speculators  and  grafting  politicians, 
policemen  with  clubs  and  militiamen  with  bayonets  to  stick 
into  the  bodies  of  workingmen  who  tried  to  improve  their  lot 
in  life! 

in 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  Jimmie  had  to  take  several 
days  off  and  go  into  Leesville  to  attend  the  trial  of  the  Ger- 
man plotters.  He  had  to  take  the  witness-stand  and  tell  all  he 
know  about  Kumme  and  Heinrich  and  the  other  men  who  had 
frequented  the  bicycle-shop.  It  was  a  very  serious  experience, 
and  before  it  was  over  Jimmie  was  heartily  glad  that  he  had 
rejected  the  invitation  to  help  blow  up  the  Empire  Machine 
Shops.  The  trial  ended  with  a  sentence  of  six  months  for  Jim- 
mie's  old  employer,  and  of  two  years  each  for  Heinrich  and  his 
pals.  The  law  allowed  no  more — to  the  intense  disgust  of  the 
Leesville  "Herald."  The  "Herald"  was  in  favour  of  a  life- 
sentence  for  any  one  who  interfered  with  the  industry  upon 
which  the  prosperity  of  the  city  depended. 

Among  those  who  came  to  the  trial  was  Comrade  Smith, 
editor  of  the  "Worker,"  and  Jimmie  sat  with  him  in  Tom's 
"Buffeteria,"  and  heard  an  account  of  the  latest  developments 
in  the  Empire  Shops.  The  movement  of  discontent  had  been 
entirely  crushed ;  the  great  establishment  was  going  at  full  blast, 
both  day  and  night.  They  were  taking  on  hundreds  of  new 
hands,  mostly  women  and  girls,  speeding  them  faster  and  faster, 
turning  out  tens  of  thousands  of  shell-casings  every  day.  And 
still  they  were  not  satisfied;  new  buildings  were  going  up,  the 


96  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

concern  was  spreading  like  a  huge  blot  over  the  landscape. 
There  was  talk  of  an  explosives  factory  nearby,  so  that  shells 
might  be  filled  as  fast  as  they  were  made. 

The  "boom"  conditions  continued  in  Leesville;  speculators 
were  reaping  harvests,  it  seemed  as  if  the  masters  of  the  city 
were  all  on  a  spree.  Comrade  Smith  advised  Jimmie  to  stay 
where  he  was,  for  it  was  getting  to  be  harder  and  harder  for 
the  workers  in  Leesville  to  get  anything  to  eat.  But  out  on 
the  heights  along  the  river  front,  the  part  of  the  city  called 
"Nob  Hill/'  new  palaces  were  rising.  And  it  was  that  way 
all  over  the  Eastern  part  of  the  country,  said  the  young  editor; 
the  rich  no  longer  knew  what  to  do  with  their  millions. 

On  the  day  the  trial  ended,  Jimmie  stayed  in  town  to  attend 
a  meeting  of  the  local  and  pay  his  back  dues.  So  he  met  all 
his  old  friends,  and  heard  "Wild  Bill"  get  up  and  deliver  one 
of  his  tirades.  Bill  had  in  his  hand  a  newspaper  clipping  tell- 
ing of  the  amazing  madness  that  had  struck  Wall  Street. 
Munition-stocks  were  soaring  to  prices  beyond  belief;  "war- 
babies,"  men  called  them,  with  unthinkably  cynical  wit.  On 
the  "Great  White  Way,"  to  which  they  rushed  to  celebrate  these 
new  Arabian  Nights,  there  was  such  an  orgy  of  dissipation 
as  the  world  had  never  seen.  "And  this  is  what  we  have  to 
slave  for!"  yelled  "Wild  Bill" — looking  wilder  than  ever  since 
the  police  had  broken  his  nose  and  knocked  out  his  three  front 
teeth.  "This  is  why  we  are  chained  to  our  jobs — shut  up  in 
jail  if  we  so  much  as  open  our  mouths!  Piling  up  millions 
for  old  man  Granitch,  so  that  young  Lacey  can  marry  chorus- 
girls  and  divorce  them — or  steal  away  another  man's  wife,  as 
they  say  he's  doing  just  now !" 

Then  young  Emil  Forster  spoke,  explaining  to  Jimmie  the 
inner  significance  of  terrific  world-events.  Russia  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  gigantic  offensive,  which  was  meant  to  overwhelm 
Austria;  England  at  the  same  time  was  hurling  in  her  new 
armies  on  the  Somme;  for  these  two  giant  movements  they 
wanted  shells — millions  and  millions  of  shells  from  America, 
which  alone  could  make  enough  of  them.  The  railroads  were 
clogged  with  them,  they  were  piled  mountain-high  at  the  term- 
inals and  ports ;  whole  fleets  of  steamers  were  loading  up  with 
them,  and  proceeding  to  England  and  France,  and  to  Russia 
by  way  of  Archangel.  And  of  course  the  German  submarines 
were  out  to  stop  them;  the  whole  world  was  like  a  powder- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  RETURNS  TO  NATURE        97 

magazine  over  the  issue.  The  President,  by  his  series  of  notes, 
had  forced  Germany  to  agree  not  to  sink  passenger-vessels;  but 
this  promise  was  not  easy  to  keep — accidents  kept  happening, 
and  the  temper  of  the  peoples  was  rising,  America  was  being 
drawn  nearer  every  hour  to  the  vortex  of  this  dreadful  strife. — 
Such  was  the  picture  which  Jimmie  carried  back  to  the  farm; 
you  could  hardly  wonder  if  he  missed  that  peace  and  joy 
which  men  are  supposed  to  imbibe  at  the  bosom  of  their  Mother 
Nature ! 


CHAPTER  X 

JIMMIE   HIGGINS    MEETS   THE   OWNEB 


TT  was  late  at  night  when  Jimmie  left  the  Socialist  local, 
*  and  took  the  trolley  out  into  the  country.  He  had  to  walk 
nearly  two  miles  from  where  he  got  off,  and  a  thunder-storm 
had  come  up;  he  got  out  and  started  to  trudge  through  the  dark- 
ness and  the  floods  of  rain.  Several  times  he  slipped  off  the 
road  into  the  ditch,  and  once  he  fell  prone,  and  got  up  and 
washed  the  mud  from  his  eyes  and  nose  with  the  stream  of 
fresh  water  pouring  about  his  head.  While  he  was  thus  occu- 
pied he  heard  the  sound  of  a  horn,  and  saw  a  glare  of  light 
rushing  up.  He  jumped  into  the  ditch  again,  and  a  big 
automobile  went  by  at  a  fast  pace,  spattering  showers  of  mud 
all  over  him.  He  plodded  on,  swearing  to  himself.  Some  of 
them  munition-millionaires,  no  doubt — tearing  over  the  country 
at  night,  honking  their  horns  like  they  owned  the  roads,  and 
covering  poor  walking  people  with  their  splashings! 

And  so  on,  until  Jimmie  came  round  a  turn  of  the  road, 
and  saw  the  white  glare  of  light  again,  this  time  standing  still. 
It  seemed  to  be  pointing  up  into  the  trees;  and  when  he  got 
nearer  he  made  out  the  reason — it  had  run  off  the  road  into 
the  ditch,  and  then  up  the  other  slope,  and  there  rolled  over 
onto  its  side. 

"Hello  I"  said  a  voice,  as  Jimmie  came  slopping  up. 

"Hello!"  he  answered. 

"How  far  is  it  to  the  nearest  house  ?" 

"Maybe  half  a  mile." 

"Who  lives  there?" 

"I  do." 

"Have  you  got  a  horse  and  buggy?" 

"There's  one  at  the  big  house,  just  a  piece  beyond." 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  OWNER          99 

"Do  you  suppose  we  could  get  enough  men  to  turn  this  car 
over?" 

"I  dunno ;  there  ain't  many  about  here." 

"Damn!"  muttered  the  man  to  himself.  Then,  after  a 
moment,  "Well,  there's  no  use  staying  here."  This  to  his 
companion,  whom  Jimmie  made  out  to  be  a  woman.  She  was 
standing  still,  with  the  cold  rain  pouring  over  her.  The  man 
put  his  arm  about  her,  and  said  to  Jimmie,  "Lead  the  way, 
please."  So  Jimmie  set  out,  slopping  through  the  mud  as  be- 
fore. 

Nothing  more  was  said  until  they  reached  the  "tenant- 
house"  where  the  Jimmies  lived.  But  meantime  the  little 
Socialist's  mind  was  busy;  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  man's 
voice  was  familiar,  and  he  was  trying  to  recall  where  and  how 
he  had  heard  it  before.  They  came  to  the  house,  which  was 
dark,  and  the  couple  stood  on  the  porch  while  Jimmie  went  in 
and  groped  for  a  match  and  lighted  the  single  smoky  oil-lamp 
on  which  the  household  depended.  Carrying  it  in  his  hand,  he 
went  to  the  door  and  invited  the  couple  in.  They  came ;  and  so 
Jimmie  got  a  glimpse  of  the  face  of  the  man,  and  almost 
dropped  the  lamp  right  there  where  he  stood.  It  was  Lacey 
Granitch ! 

II 

The  young  lord  of  Leesville  was  too  much  occupied  with  his 
own  affairs  to  notice  the  look  on  the  face  of  the  yokel  before 
him ;  or  perhaps  he  was  so  used  to  being  recognised,  and  to  being 
stared  at  by  yokels.  He  looked  about  the  room  and  saw  a  stove. 
"Can  you  get  us  a  fire,  so  this  lady  can  get  dry?" 

"Y-yes,"  said  Jimmie.  "I-I  suppose  so."  But  he  made 
no  move;  he  stood  rooted  to  the  spot. 

"Lacey,"  put  in  the  woman,  "don't  stop  for  that.  Get  the 
car  started,  or  get  another."  And  Jimmie  looked  at  her;  she 
was  rather  small,  and  very  beautiful — quite  the  most  beautiful 
human  creature  that  Jimmie  had  ever  looked  at.  One  could  see 
that  she  was  expensively  dressed,  even  though  everything  she 
had  on  was  soaked  with  rain. 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Lacey.  "You  can't  travel  till  you 
get  dry — you'd  be  ill."  And  he  turned  upon  Jimmie.  "Get  a 
fire,  won't  you  ?"  he  exclaimed.  "A  big  fire.  I'll  make  it  worth 


100  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

while  to  you  for  whatever  you  do.  Only  don't  stand  there 
gaping  all  night,"  he  added  impatiently. 

Jimmie  leaped  to  obey;  partly  because  he  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  leaping  to  obey  all  his  life — but  also  partly  because 
he  was  sorry  for  the  beautiful  wet  lady,  and  because,  if  he  stood 
and  stared  any  longer,  Lacey  Granitch  might  recognise  him. 
The  moment  when  Jimmie  had  been  singled  out  in  the  herd  of 
strikers  and  cursed  by  the  young  master  of  the  Empire  Machine 
Shops  was  one  of  the  most  vivid  memories  of  Jimmie's  re- 
bellious life,  and  it  did  not  occur  to  him  that  the  incident 
might  not  have  equally  impressed  the  other  participant. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  stove  was  hot ;  and  urged  by  her  escort, 
the  lady  took  oif  her  driving-coat  and  hat,  and  hung  them  over 
a  chair.  Everything  underneath  was  wet,  and  the  man  urged 
her  to  take  off  her  skirt  and  waist.  "What  does  he  matter?" 
he  argued,  referring  to  Jimmie;  but  the  lady  would  not  do  it. 
She  stood  by  the  stove,  shivering  slightly,  and  pleading  with 
her  escort  to  make  haste,  to  find  some  way  to  get  the  car 
running  again.  They  might  be  followed 

"Oh,  nonsense,  Helen  I"  cried  Lacey.  "You  are  torment- 
ing yourself  with  nightmares.  Be  sensible,  and  get  dry?'  He 
piled  the  wood  into  the  stove,  and  ordered  Jimmie  to  get  an- 
other armful;  and  Jimmie  obeyed  with  his  hands  and  feet — 
but  meantime  his  rebellious  little  brain  was  taking  in  every 
detail  of  the  situation,  putting  this  and  that  together. 

The  talking  had  waked  up  Lizzie,  so  Jimmie  rushed  into 
the  next  room  and  whispered,  "Lacey  Granitch  is  here!"  If 
he  had  told  her  that  the  Angel  Gabriel  was  there,  or  Jehovah 
with  all  his  thunders  and  his  retinue  of  seraphim,  poor  Lizzie 
could  not  have  been  more  stunned.  Jimmie  ordered  her  to  get 
up,  and  get  on  her  dress  and  shoes,  and  get  a  cup  of  coffee 
for  the  lady;  the  dazed  woman  obeyed — though  she  would  rather 
have  crawled  under  the  bed  than  face  the  celestial  personages 
who  had  taken  possession  of  her  home. 

in 

Lacey  ordered  Jimmie  to  accompany  him,  to  find  some  help 
to  get  the  car  into  travelling  condition.  They  went  out  together, 
and  on  the  porch,  before  they  braved  the  rain  again,  young 
Granitch  stopped  and  spoke:  "See  here,  my  man;  I  want  you 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  OWNER        101 

to  help  me  get  a  gang  together,  and  I  want  you  to  keep  quiet, 
please — say  nothing  about  who  was  in  the  car.  If  any  other 
people  come  along  and  ask  questions,  keep  your  mouth  shut,  and 
I'll  make  it  worth  while  to  you — well  worth  while.  Do  you 
understand  ?" 

Every'  instinct  in  Jimmie  Higgins  was  ready  to  answer, 
"Yes,  sir/'  That  was  what  he  had  always  answered  to  such 
commands — he,  and  his  father,  and  his  father's  fathers  before 
him.  But  something  else  within  him  resisted  this  instinct — 
the  new  revolutionary  psychology  which  he  had  so  painfully 
acquired,  and  which  made  continual  war  upon  his  old-time 
docilities.  It  seemed  that  this  was  the  moment,  if  ever  in  his 
life,  to  show  the  stun6  he  was  made  of.  He  clenched  his  hands, 
and  everything  in  him  turned  to  iron.  "Who  is  that  lady?" 
he  demanded. 

Lacey  Granitch  was  so  taken  aback  that  he  started  visibly. 
"What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"I  mean — is  she  your  wife?  Or  is  she  some  other  man's 
wife?" 

"Why  you  damned "    And  the  young  lord  of  Leesville 

stopped,  speechless.  Jimmie  fell  back  a  couple  of  steps,  as  a 
matter  of  precaution,  but  he  did  not  weaken  in  his  rigid  resolve. 

"I  know  you,  Mr.  Granitch,"  he  said;  "and  I  know  what 
you're  doing.  You  might  as  well  know  you  ain't  foolin'  no- 
body." 

"What  the  hell  is  it  to  you?"  cried  the  other;  but  then  he 
stopped  again,  and  Jimmie  heard  him  breathing  hard.  Evi- 
dently he  made  an  effort  to  keep  his  self-control ;  when  he  spoke 
again,  his  voice  was  quieter.  "Listen,  my  good  fellow,"  he  said. 
"You  have  a  chance  to  make  a  good  deal  of  money  to-night " 

"I  don't  want  your  money !"  broke  in  Jimmie.  "I  wouldn't 
touch  your  filthy  money,  that  you  get  by  murdering  men !" 

"My  God!"  said  Lacey  Granitch;  and  then,  weakly:  "What 
have  you  got  against  me  ?" 

"What  have  I  got?  I  was  workin'  in  the  Empire,  an'  I 
went  on  strike  for  my  rights,  an'  you  cursed  me  like  I  was  a  dog, 
an'  you  sent  the  police  an'  had  me  arrested,  an'  they  smashed 
Wild  Bill's  nose,  an'  sent  me  up  for  ten  days  when  I  hadn't 
done  nothin' " 

"Oh!    So  that's  it,  is  it?" 

"Yes,  that's  it;  but  I  wouldn't  mind  that  so  much— if  it 


102  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

wasn't  for  them  shells  you're  makin'  to  kill  men  over  in  Europe. 
And  you  spendin'  the  money  drinkin'  champagne  with  chorus- 
girls,  an'  running  off  with  other  men's  wives!" 

"You "  and  Lacey  uttered  a  foul  oath,  and  leaped  at 

Jimmie;  but  Jimmie  had  expected  that,  he  was  looking  out  for 
himself.  There  was  no  railing  to  the  little  porch  on  which  he 
stood,  and  he  leaped  off  to  the  ground  and  away.  Because  he 
knew  the  lay  of  the  land,  he  could  run  faster  in  the  darkness 
than  his  pursuer. 

He  sped  down  the  path  and  out  into  the  road — and  there 
was  the  headlight  of  an  automobile,  almost  upon  him.  The 
vehicle  came  to  an  instant  stop,  and  a  startled  voice  cried, 
"Hey,  there!" 

"Hey,  there!"  answered  Jimmie,  and  stopped  in  the  light; 
for  he  did  not  believe  that  his  enemy  would  dare  pursue  him 
there. 

The  voice  from  the  car  spoke  again.  "There's  an  automobile 
off  the  road  a  ways  back  here.  Do  you  know  anything  about 
who  the  people  are  that  were  driving  it?" 

"Sure  I  do !"  answered  Jimmie  promptly. 

"Where  are  they?" 

"They're  up  in  that  house — Lacey  Granitch  an'  a  lady 
named  Helen " 

And  instantly  the  door  of  the  car  was  flung  open.  A  man 
leaped  out,  and  another  man,  and  another;  they  kept  coming — 
Jimmie  would  not  have  believed  that  an  automobile  could  have 
held  so  many  people.  Not  one  of  them  said  a  word,  but  all 
started  on  the  run  for  Jimmie's  house  as  if  they  were  charging 
in  a  battle. 

IV 

Jimmie  followed  behind.  He  heard  sounds  of  a  scuffle  on 
the  lawn,  and  screams  from  inside.  At  first  the  little  farm- 
hand could  not  make  up  his  mind  what  to  do,  but  finally  he 
ran  to  the  house ;  and  there  in  the  front  room  he  saw  the  beauti- 
ful lady,  with  her  wet  hair  streaming  down  her  back,  and  the 
tears  streaming  down  her  face,  sunk  on  her  knees  before  the 
man  who  had  hailed  Jimmie  from  the  automobile.  She  had 
caught  his  coat  with  her  two  hands,  and  clung  to  it  with  such 
desperation  that  when  he  tried  to  draw  away  he  dragged  her 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  OWNER        103 

along  the  floor.    "Paul!"  she  was  screaming.    "What  are  you 
going  to  do?" 

"Be  quiet!  Be  quiet!"  commanded  the  man.  He  was 
young,  tall  and  superhumanly  handsome ;  his  face  had  the  white 
light  of  a  passionate  resolve,  his  lips  were  set  like  those  of  a 
man  who  is  marching  to  his  death  in  battle.  "Answer  me!" 
cried  the  woman  again  and  again;  until  finally  he  said:  "I 
shan't  kill  him;  but  I  mean  to  teach  him  his  lesson." 

"Paul,  Paul,  have  mercy!"  sobbed  the  woman;  she  went  on 
pleading  hysterically,  in  the  most  dreadful  distress  that  Jimmie 
had  ever  seen  or  heard.  "It  wasn't  his  fault,  Paul,  it  was 
mine!  I  did  it  all!  Oh,  for  Christ's  sake!  You  are  driving 
me  mad!"  She  moaned,  she  implored,  she  sobbed  till  she 
choked  herself;  and  when  the  man  tried  to  tear  her  hands 
loose  she  fought  with  him,  he  could  not  get  free  of  her. 

"You're  not  going  to  move  me,  Helen,"  he  declared.  "You 
might  as  well  get  that  clear." 

"But  I  tell  you  it  was  my  fault,  Paul!  I  ran  away  with 
him!" 

"All  right,"  answered  the  man,  grimly.  "I'll  fix  him  so 
no  other  man's  wife  will  ever  run  away  with  him." 

Her  clamour  continued  more  wildly  than  ever,  until  two 
other  men  came  into  the  room.  "Joe,"  said  Paul,  to  one  of 
them,  "take  her  down  to  the  car  arid  keep  her  there.  Don't 
let  her  call  for  help — if  anybody  comes  along,  keep  her  quiet, 
keep  your  hand  tight  over  her  mouth." 

"Paul,  you're  a  fiend !"  shrieked  the  woman.  "I'll  kill  you 
for  this !" 

"You're  welcome  to,"  answered  the  man.  "I  shouldn't 
care — but  I'm  going  to  do  this  job  before  I  die."  And  he  tore 
the  woman's  hands  away  from  him,  and  by  his  stern  anger  he 
gave  the  other  two  men  the  necessary  resolution.  They  carried 
her,  half  fainting,  out  of  the  room. 

All  this  time  Jimmie  Higgins  had  been  standing  like  one 
turned  to  stone;  and  Lizzie  had  shrunk  into  a  far  corner  of  the 
room,  all  but  paralysed  with  terror.  Now  the  man  turned  to 
them.  "My  good  people,"  he  said,  "we  want  to  borrow  your 
room  for  a  half  hour  or  so.  We'll  pay  you  well  for  it — enough 
to  buy  the  whole  house  if  you  want  to." 

"W-w-what  are  you  goin'  to  do?"  stammered  Jimmie. 

"We're  going  to  teach  a  little  fundamental  morality  to  a 


104:  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

young  man  whose  education  has  been  neglected/'  replied  the 
other.  That  somehow  did  not  tell  Jimmie  very  much,  but  he 
forbore  to  speak  again,  for  never  in  all  his  life  had  he  seen  a 
man  who  conveyed  to  him  the  impression  of  such  resistless 
force  as  this  man.  He  was  truly  a  superhuman  creature,  terri- 
fying, panoplied  in  lightnings  of  wrath. 

The  door  of  the  house  opened  again,  and  Lacey  Granitch 
came  in,  with  a  man  on  each  side  holding  him  by  the  arms, 
and  a  pair  of  handcuffs  on  his  wrist.  Of  all  the  dreadful 
spectacles  that  Jimmie  had  seen  that  dreadful  night,  the  worst 
was  the  face  of  the  young  master  of  the  Empire  Machine  Shops. 
It  was  green — absolutely  and  literally  green.  His  knees  trembled 
so  that  he  seemed  about  to  sink  to  the  floor,  and  his  dark  eyes 
were  those  of  an  animal  in  a  trap. 

There  came  another  man  behind  him  carrying  two  black 
cases  in  his  hands.  He  opened  one,  and  took  out  some  instru- 
ment with  wires  attached,  and  hung  part  of  it  to  a  hook  on  the 
wall;  he  pressed  a  switch,  and  a  soft  white  radiance  flooded  the 
room.  The  man  who  was  in  command,  the  one  whom  the  lady 
had  called  "Paul,"  now  turned  to  Jimmie  and  his  wife.  "You 
may  take  your  lamp/'  he  said.  "Go  into  the  other  room  and 
stay  there  till  we  call  you,  please/' 

"W-w-what  are  you  goin'  to  do  ?"  Jimmie  found  courage  to 
stammei4  again.  But  the  other  merely  bade  him  to  go  into  the 
other  room  and  stay,  and  it  would  be  all  right,  and  he  would  be 
well  paid  for  his  time  and  trouble.  There  was  no  use  trying 
to  interfere;  no  use  trying  to  get  away,  for  the  house  would  be 
watched. 


Jimmie  Junior  had  been  wakened  by  the  uproar,  and  was 
whimpering;  so  Lizzie  hurried  to  quiet  him,  and  Jimmie  set 
the  little  smoky  lamp  on  the  dresser,  and  went  and  sat  on  the 
bed  beside  her,  holding  her  hand  in  his.  Both  their  hands  were 
shaking  in  a  way  that  was  amazing. 

Every  sound  from  the  other  room  was  plainly  audible. 
Lacey  was  pleading,  and  "Paul"  commanded  him  to  hold  his 
tongue.  There  was  a  scuffle,  and  then  terrified  moans,  which 
died  away.  There  began  to  steal  into  the  Higgins  bed-room 
a  most  ghastly  odour;  they  could  not  imagine  what  it  was. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  OWNER        105 

And  then  they  began  to  hear  wild  clamour  from  Lacey  Granitch, 
as  if  he  were  suffering  in  hell.  It  was  awful  beyond  words; 
the  perspiration  came  out  in  beads  on  the  faces  of  the  listeners, 
and  Jimmie  was  just  about  making  up  his  mind  that  it  was 
his  duty  to  rush  in  and  protest,  or  perhaps  to  climb  out  of  the 
window  and  make  an  effort  to  steal  away  and  summon  help, 
when  the  door  opened  and  the  man  called  "Paul"  came  in, 
closing  the  door  behind  him. 

"It's  all  right/'  said  he.  "People  always  make  a  fuss 
when  they're  given  an  anaesthetic,  so  don't  let  it  frighten  you." 
And  he  stood  here  waiting,  rigid,  grim,  while  the  sounds  went 
on.  Finally  they  died  away  and  silence  fell — a  long,  long 
silence.  He  opened  the  door  and  went  back  into  the  ether 
room,  and  the  two  Jimmies  were  left  holding  each  other's  shak- 
ing hands. 

Now  and  then  they  heard  a  man  speak  in  a  low  voice,  or 
some  one  move  across  the  room;  and  always  that  ghastly,  over- 
powering odour  kept  creeping  in,  making  them  think  they  would 
die  of  suffocation,  and  their  three  babies  also.  The  suspense 
and  horror  had  become  almost  unbearable — when  finally  they 
began  to  hear  Lacey  Granitch  again,  moaning,  sobbing — most 
harrowing  sounds.  "My  God!  My  God!"  whispered  Lizzie. 
"What  are  they  doing?"  And  when  Jimmie  did  not  answer, 
she  whispered  again.  "We  ought  to  stop  them!  We  ought  to 
get  help!" 

But  then  once  more  the  door  opened,  and  "Paul"  came  in. 
"It's  all  right  now,"  he  said.  "He's  coming  out."  Neither  of 
the  Jimmies  had  the  least  idea  what  "coming  out"  meant,  but 
they  were  reassured  to  know  that  the  masterful  person  at  least 
was  satisfied.  They  waited;  they  heard  Lacey  vomiting,  as  it 
seemed — and  then  they  heard  him  cursing,  in  between  his  feeble 
gasps.  He  called  the  men  the  same  foul  name  that  he  had 
called  Jimmie;  and  that  somehow  made  the  whole  affair  seem 
better — it  brought  one  down  to  earth  again ! 

"Paul"  went  out  and  stayed  for  a  while,  and  when  he  came 
back,  he  said,  "We're  going  now;  and  understand,  there's 
nothing  for  you  to  worry  about.  We  shall  leave  the  patient 
here,  and  as  soon  as  we  get  to  a  telephone,  we'll  notify  the 
hospital  to  send  an  ambulance.  So  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  wait, 
and  keep  quiet  and  don't  worry.  And  here's  something  for 
the  use  of  your  house "  The  man  put  out  his  hand  with  a 


106  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

roll  of  bills,  which  Jimmie  mechanically  took — "and  if  any- 
body asks  you  about  what  happened  to-night,  just  say  you  didn't 
see  anything  and  don't  know  anything  whatever  about  it.  I'm 
sorry  to  have  troubled  you,  but  it  couldn't  be  helped.  And 
now,  good  night." 

And  so  the  masterful  young  man  went  out,  and  they  heard 
him  and  his  companions  tramping  down  the  porch-steps.  They 
listened,  until  they  heard  the  automobile  start  up  and  disappear 
in  the  darkness.  Then  from  the  next  room  they  heard  a  moan. 

Trembling  with  terror,  Jimmie  got  up  and  stole  to  the  door, 
and  opened  it  a  tiny  crack.  The  room  was  in  utter  darkness. 
"Get  me  some  water !"  the  voice  of  Lacey  groaned ;  and  Jimmie 
tiptoed  back,  and  got  the  little  smoky  lamp,  and  came  to  the 
door  again.  He  peered  in,  and  saw  that  Lacey  was  lying  on  the 
floor  with  a  sheet  over  him — everything  but  his  head,  which  was 
resting  on  a  pillow.  His  face  was  yellow  and  twisted  with 
pain.  "Water !  Water !"  he  sobbed ;  and  Jimmie  rushed  to  get 
a  glass  and  fill  it  from  the  pail.  When  he  brought  it,  Lacey 
first  tried  to  drink,  and  then  began  to  vomit;  then  he  lay, 
sobbing  softly  to  himself.  He  saw  Jimmie  staring  at  him,  and 
his  eyes  filled  with  sudden  hate  and  he  whispered,  "This  is 
what  you  got  me  in  for,  you  damned  little  skunk!" 


CHAPTEE  XI 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  FACES  THE  WAR 


rPHE  ambulance  arrived,  and  the  two  attendants  who  came 
*  with  it  brought  in  a  stretcher  and  carried  young  Granitch 
away.  Jimmie  opened  the  windows  to  get  rid  of  the  odour  of 
ether,  and  meantime  he  and  Lizzie  sat  for  hours,  discussing 
every  aspect  of  the  dreadful  scene  they  had  witnessed,  and 
speculating  as  to  its  meaning.  When  Jimmie  investigated  the 
roll  of  bills  which  had  been  slipped  into  his  hand,  he  found 
that  there  were  ten  of  them,  new,  crisp,  and  bright  yellow, 
•each  having  the  figure  twenty  printed  upon  it.  It  was  more 
money  than  these  two  humble  little  people  had  ever  had  or 
expected  to  have  in  all  their  lives.  It  was  literally  blood-money, 
they  felt,  but  it  would  be  hard  to  see  who  would  be  benefited 
if  they  rejected  it.  Certainly  the  deed  which  had  been  done 
that  night  could  not  be  undone — not  for  all  the  money  that 
old  Granitch  had  heaped  up  in  his  vaults. 

Jimmie  kept  quiet,  as  he  had  been  bidden,  and  apparently 
no  one  told  about  his  part  in  the  affair — no  reporters  came  out  to 
his  country  home  to  ask  for  interviews.  But  when  he  went  to 
the  cross-roads  store  a  couple  of  nights  later  he  found  that  the 
story  was  all  over — nobody  was  talking  or  thinking  about  any- 
thing else.  The  news,  in  fact,  had  gone  by  telegraph  all  over 
the  world,  and  wherever  people  read  it  they  shuddered  with 
horror,  and  the  Socialists  had  a  choice  illustration  of  the  effect 
of  excessive  wealth  upon  morals. 

There  were  half  a  dozen  versions  of  the  story,  Jimmie 
found;  some  declared  that  the  outraged  husband  had  caught 
young  Granitch  in  his  home  and  had  fetched  a  surgeon  there; 
others  that  he  had  taken  him  to  a  hospital;  others  that  the 
operation  had  been  performed  in  a  road-house  nearby.  But  none 

107 


108  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

mentioned  the  tenant-house  on  the  farm  of  John  Cutter,  and 
Jimmie  wrapped  himself  in  his  pride  of  superior  knowledge, 
and  let  the  loungers  in  the  country  store  chatter  on.  He  would 
go  back  each  night  for  new  gossip;  and  first  he  heard  that  old 
man  Granitch  was  meaning  to  have  all  the  conspirators  arrested 
and  sent  to  jail ;  but  then  it  was  said  that  young  Lacey  had  left 
the  hospital  and  vanished,  no  one  knew  where.  And  they 
never  knew;  never  again  did  he  appear  to  curse  the  strikers 
at  the  Empire,  nor  to  break  the  hearts  of  chorus-girls  on  the 
Great  White  Way !  His  grim  old  father's  hair  turned  grey  in  a 
few  weeks;  and  while  he  went  on  to  fill  his  contracts  with  the 
Kussian  government,  all  men  knew  that  his  heart  was  eaten 
out  with  grief  and  rage  and  shame. 

Jimmie  and  his  wife  held  numerous  confabulations  over  tHose 
twenty  dollar  bills.  What  should  they  do  with  their  fortune? 
The  "Worker/'  always  in  need  of  funds,  was  just  now  issuing 
bonds  in  small  denominations,  and  Jimmie  could  not  imagine 
any  better  financial  investment  than  a  working-class  paper; 
but  Lizzie,  alas,  could  not  be  made  to  see  it.  And  then  his  eye 
was  caught  by  an  advertisement  of  an  oil-company,  published 
in  a  Socialist  paper,  which  lifted  it  above  suspicion.  But  again 
Lizzie  blocked  the  way.  She  begged  her  visionary  husband 
to  turn  the  money  over  to  her;  she  argued  that  half  of  it  be- 
longed to  her  anyhow — had  she  not  done  her  part  to  earn  it? 
'^What  part?"  Jimmie  asked;  and  she  answered  that  she  had 
kept  quiet — and  what  more  had  he  done? 

Eleeza  Betooser  wanted  that  treasure  to  insure  safety  for 
the  children  through  whatever  troubles  might  come  to  their 
propagandist  father.  And  finally  the  propagandist  father  gave 
way,  and  the  woman  proceeded  to  secure  the  money  in  the  an- 
cient way  of  her  sex.  She  took  the  ten  crisp  bills  and  sewed 
them  in  a  layer  of  cloth,  and  wound  the  cloth  about  the  ankle 
of  her  right  leg,  and  sewed  it  there,  and  put  a  stocking  over  it 
to  hide  it.  And  that  apparatus  would  stay  there — day  or  night, 
winter  or  summer,  it  would  never  part  from  its  owner.  She 
would  be  a  walking  bank,  a  bank  that  she  knew  was  safe  from 
panic  or  crisis;  the  feeling  of  the  two  hundred  dollars  about 
her  ankle  would  be  communicated  to  every  part  of  Lizzie — 
warming  her  heart,  delighting  her  brain,  and  stimulating  her 
liver  and  digestion. 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  FACES  THE  WAR  109 


n 

And  soon  the  chances  of  life  caused  Jimmie  to  be  glad  of 
the  innate  conservatism  of  the  feminine  nature.  The  giant 
British  offensive  was  drowned  in  mud  and  blood  on  the  Somme, 
and  the  Eussian  offensive  went  to  pieces  before  Lemberg;  and 
meantime  John  Cutter  stowed  his  barrels  of  apples  in  the  cellar, 
and  got  the  last  of  his  corn-crop  husked,  and  drove  his  load  of 
pumpkins  to  market;  and  then  one  Saturday  night,  after  the 
cows  had  come  in,  wet  and  steaming  with  November  rain,  he 
informed  his  hired  man  that  he  would  not  need  his  services 
after  that  month,  he  would  no  longer  be  able  to  afford  "help/' 
Jimmie  stared  at  him  in  consternation — for  he  had  thought 
that  he  had  a  permanent  job,  having  learned  the  work,  and  hav- 
ing heard  no  serious  complaints. 

"But,"  explained  Cutter,  "the  work's  all  done.  Do  you  ex- 
pect me  to  pay  you  to  sit  round?  I'll  be  glad  to  take  you  on 
next  spring,  of  course." 

"And  what'll  I  do  in  the  meantime?"  Jimmie  glared,  and 
all  his  hatred  of  the  villainous  profit-system  welled  up  in  his 
heart.  So  much  food  he  had  helped  to  raise  and  store  away — 
and  not  a  pound  of  it  his !  "Say,"  he  remarked,  "I  know 
what  you  want !  Some  kind  of  a  trained  bear,  that'll  work  all 
summer,  and  go  to  sleep  in  winter  an'  not  eat  nothin' !" 

The  little  Socialist  was  all  the  crosser,  because  he  knew  that 
his  boss  had  just  made  a  lucky  stroke — they  were  running  a 
spur  of  the  railroad  out  to  the  vast  explosives  plant  they  were 
constructing  in  the  country,  and  Cutter  had  got  the  price  of 
his  mortgage  for  a  narrow  strip  of  land  that  was  nothing  but 
wood-lot.  Jimmie  had  seen  the  trade  made,  and  had  put  in  a 
useful  word  as  to  the  value  of  that  "timber,"  but  now  he  had  no 
share  in  the  deal.  He  must  be  content  with  an  offer  of  the 
tenant-house  for  five  dollars  a  month  through  the  winter,  and 
a  job  with  the  railroad-company,  grading  track. 

There  came  rain  and  snow  and  blizzards,  but  the  railroad 
construction  stopped  for  nothing.  It  went  on  in  three  shifts, 
day  and  night;  for  half  the  world  was  clamouring  for  the 
means  to  blow  itself  up,  and  the  other  half  must  work  like  the 
devil  to  furnish  the  means.  At  least  that  was  the  way  the 
matter  presented  itself  to  Jimmie  Higgins,  who  took  it  as  a 
personal  affront  the  way  this  diabolical  war  kept  pursuing  him. 


110  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

He  had  fled  into  the  country  from  it,  bringing  his  little  family 
to  a  tenant-house  on  an  obscure,  worn-out  farm,  several  miles 
from  the  nearest  town;  but  here  all  of  a  sudden  came  a  gang 
of  Dagoes  with  picks  and  shovels.  They  lifted  up  and  set  to  one 
side  the  chicken-house  where  Lizzie  kept  her  eleven  hens  and 
one  rooster,  and  the  pig-sty  where  one  little  shoat  gobbled  up 
their  table-scraps;  and  two  days  later  came  a  huge  machine, 
driven  by  steam,  creeping  on  a  track,  picking  up  rails  and  ties 
from  a  car  behind  it,  swinging  them  round  and  laying  them 
in  front  of  it,  and  then  rolling  ahead  over  the  bed  it  had  made. 
So  the  railroad  just  literally  walked  out  into  the  country,  and 
before  long  whole  train-loads  of  cement  and  sand  and  corru- 
gated iron  walls  and  roofing  came  rattling  and  banging  past 
the  Higgins  back-door.  Day  and  night  this  continued;  and  a 
little  ways  beyond  they  knew  that  a  two  mile  square  of  scrubby 
waste  was  being  laid  out  with  roads  and  tracks  and  little  squat 
buildings,  set  far  apart  from  each  other.  In  a  few  months  the 
frightened  family  would  lie  awake  at  night  and  listen  to  trains 
rattling  past,  coming  out  from  the  explosives  plant,  piled  to  the 
tops  with  loads  of  trinitrotoluol,  and  such  unpronounceable  in- 
struments of  murder  and  destruction.  And  this  was  the  fate 
which  capitalism  had  handed  out  to  an  ardent  anti-militarist, 
a  propagandist  of  international  fraternity! 

in 

Jimmie  Higgins  went  into  the  Socialist  local  now  and  then, 
to  pay  his  dues  and  to  refresh  his  soul  on  pacifist  speeches. 
Just  before  Christmas  the  President  of  the  United  States  wrote 
a  letter  to  all  the  warring  nations,  pleading  with  them  to  end  the 
strife;  intimating  that  all  the  belligerents  were  on  a  par  as  to 
badness,  and  stating  explicitly  that  America  had  nothing  to  do 
with  their  struggle.  This,  of  course,  brought  intense  satis- 
faction to  the  members  of  Local  Leesville  of  the  Socialist  party; 
it  was  what  they  had  been  proclaiming  for  two  years  and  four 
months!  They  had  never  expected  to  have  a  capitalist  presi- 
dent in  agreement  with  them,  but  when  the  opportunity  came, 
they  made  the  most  of  it;  clamouring  that  the  capitalist  presi- 
dent should  go  farther — should  back  up  his  words  by  actions. 
If  the  warring  nations  would  not  make  peace,  let  America  at 
least  clear  her  skirts  by  declaring  an  embargo,  refusing  to 
furnish  them  with  the  means  of  self-destruction! 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  FACES  THE  WAR  111 

But  for  some  reason  incomprehensible  to  Jimmie  Higgins, 
the  capitalist  president  would  not  take  this  further  step;  and 
time  moved  on,  and  at  the  end  of  January  fell  a  thunder-bolt, 
in  the  shape  of  a  declaration  from  the  German  government  that 
beginning  next  day  it  rescinded  its  agreement  to  visit  and  search 
steamers,  and  declared  war  to  the  "death  against  all  vessels  sailing 
in  barred  zones.  Jimmie  went  to  a  meeting  of  the  local  a  few 
days  after  that,  and  found  the  gathering  seething  with  excite- 
ment. The  President  had  appeared  before  Congress  that  day 
and  made  a  speech  calling  for  war;  and  the  Germans  and 
Austrians  in  the  local  were  wild  with  indignation,  shaking  their 
fists  and  clamouring  against  the  unthinkable  outrage  of  an 
attack  upon  the  Fatherland.  There  was  a  new  edition  of  the 
"Worker"  just  out,  filled  with  bitter  protests,  and  the  Germans 
and  the  pacifists  wanted  to  pledge  the  local  to  a  movement  for 
a  general  strike  of  labour  throughout  the  country.  Street- 
meetings  had  been  resumed — for  of  course,  since  the  strike  in 
the  Empire  had  been  settled,  the  police  had  had  no  pretext  to 
prevent  them.  The  extremists  now  wanted  anti-war  speakers 
on  every  corner,  and  anti-war  leaflets  shoved  under  every  door- 
step; they  were  willing  to  put  up  the  money  and  to  pledge 
their  time  for  these  activities. 

Lawyer  Norwood  rose  and  revealed  the  split  that  was  now 
full-grown  in  the  party.  For  the  United  States  to  lie  down 
before  that  insolent  declaration  of  the  German  government 
would  be  to  imperil  everything  which  a  lover  of  liberty  held  dear. 
It  would  mean  that  Britain  would  be  starved  out  of  the  war, 
and  British  sea-power  shattered — that  British  sea-power  upon 
which  free  government  had  based  itself  throughout  the  world. 
Norwood  was  unable  to  get  any  further,  for  the  tempest  of  jeer- 
ing and  ridicule  that  overwhelmed  him.  "Freedom  in  Ireland !" 
shrieked  Comrade  Mary  Allen.  "And  in  India !  And  in 
Egypt!"  bellowed  Comrade  Koeln,  the  glass-blower,  whose 
mighty  lungs  had  been  twenty  years  preparing  for  this  emer- 
gency. 

It  was  hard  to  stop  the  laughter — it  seemed  so  funny  that 
a  man  who  called  himself  a  Socialist  should  be  defending  Brit- 
ish battleships !  But  Comrade  Gerrity,  the  chairman,  pounded 
with  his  gavel,  and  insisted  that  the  meeting  should  give  fair 
play,  that  every  speaker  should  be  heard  in  his  turn.  So  Nor- 
wood went  on.  He  understood  that  no  government  in  this 


112  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

world  was  perfect,  but  some  were  better  than  others,  and  it 
was  a  fact  of  history,  whether  or  not  they  chose  to  admit  it, 
that  such  freedom  as  had  already -been  secured  in  the  world 
— in  Britain  and  Canada  and  Australia  and  New  Zealand  and 
the  United  States — had  rested  under  the  protection  of  British 
battle-ships.  If  those  battle-ships  went  down,  it  would  mean 
that  every  one  of  those  free  communities  would  begin  building 
up  a  military  force  many  times  as  strong  as  they  had  now. 
If  the  United  States  did  not  maintain  the  established  customs 
of  sea-commerce  in  the  present  crisis,  it  would  mean  one  thing 
and  one  only — that  America  would  spend  the  next  thirty  years 
devoting  her  energies  to  preparing  for  a  life-and-death  strug- 
gle with  German  Imperialism.  If  we  were  not  to  fight  later, 
we  must  fight  now 

"All  right,  you  fight!"  shouted  Comrade  Schneider,  the 
brewer,  his  purple  face  more  purple  than  ever  before  in  the 
history  of  Local  Leesville. 

"I'm  going  to  fight  all  right,"  answered  the  young  lawyer. 
"This  is  my  last  speech  here  or  anywhere  else — I'm  leaving 
for  an  officers'  training-camp  to-morrow.  I  have  come  here  to 
do  my  duty,  to  warn  you  comrades — even  though  I  know  it 
will  be  in  vain.  The  time  for  debate  has  passed — the  country 
is  going  into  war " 

"I'm  not  going  into  war !"  roared  Schneider. 

"Be  careful,"  answered  the  other.  "You  may  find  yourself 
in  before  you  know  it." 

And  the  big  brewer  laughed  to  shake  the  plaster  off  the 
walls.  "I'd  like  to  see  them  send  me !  To  fight  for  the  British 
sea-power !  Ho !  Ho !  Ho !" 

IV 

It  was  a  stormy  speech  young  Norwood  made,  but  he  per- 
sisted to  the  end,  so  that,  as  he  said,  his  conscience  might  be 
clear,  he  might  know  that  he  had  done  what  he  could  to  protect 
the  movement  from  its  greatest  blunder.  He  warned  them  that 
the  temper  of  the  country  was  rising;  you  could  see  it  rising 
hour  by  hour,  and  things  which  had  been  tolerated  in  the  past 
would  be  tolerated  no  longer.  Democracy  would  protect  its  life 
— it  would  show  that  in  a  crisis  it  was  as  strong  as  militarism — 

"Yes,  and  turn  itself  into  militarism  to  do  it !"  cried  Comrade 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  FACES  THE  WAR  113 

Mary  Allen.  The  Quaker  lady  was  almost  beside  herself;  she, 
more  even  than  the  Germans,  saw  in  what  was  transpiring  the 
violation  of  her  most  sacred  convictions.  America,  her  own 
country,  was  giving  itself  to  war,  making  ready  to  turn  its 
resources  to  the  wholesale  mutilation  of  men !  Comrade  Mary's 
thin  face  was  white;  her  lips  were  tight  with  resolve,  but  her 
feelings  betrayed  themselves  by  the  quivering  of  her  nostrils. 
And  oh,  what  a  speech  she  made !  Such  torrents  of  furious 
hatred  in  the  cause  of  universal  love!  Comrade  Mary  quoted 
a  Socialist  writer  who  had  said  that  just  as  gladiatorial  com- 
bats had  continued  until  Christian  monks  were  willing  to  throw 
themselves  into  the  arena,  so  war  would  continue  until  Social- 
ists were  willing  to  throw  themselves  beneath  the  hoofs  of  the 
cavalry.  And  in  this  Quaker  spinster  you  saw  one  Socialist 
who  was  ready  to  go  out  that  very  night  and  throw  herself 
beneath  the  hoofs  of  cavalry,  infantry,  or  artillery,  or  even  of 
a  police-automobile. 

And  that  was  the  sentiment  of  the  meeting  as  a  whole. 
If  America  entered  the  European  strife,  it  would  be  because 
the  Socialist  organisation  had  exhausted  its  means  of  protest 
in  vain.  They  would  call  meetings,  they  would  distribute 
literature,  they  would  voice  their  convictions  on  the  streets  and 
in  the  shops  and  wherever  the  people  might  be  reached.  They 
would  have  no  part  in  this  wicked  strife,  either  now  or  later; 
they  would  continue  in  the  future,  as  in  the  past,  to  denounce 
and  to  expose  the  capitalist  politicians  and  the  capitalist  news- 
papers who  caused  war  and  thrived  upon  war.  And  in  pro- 
portion to  the  intensity  of  their  feelings  would  be  their  bitter- 
ness and  contempt  for  the  few  renegades  who  in  this  hour  of 
crisis,  this  test  of  manhood  and  integrity,  were  deserting  the 
movement  and  going  to  enrol  themselves  in  officers'  training- 
camps  ! 

And  so  when  Jimmie  went  home  that  night  he  carried  with 
him  an  armful  of  revolutionary  literature,  which  during-  the 
noon-hour  he  proceeded  to  distribute  among  the  workers  on  the 
construct  ion- job,  which  was  now  inside  the  preserves  of  the 
explosives  company.  So  naturally  in  the  course  of  the  after- 
noon he  was  summoned  before  the  boss  and  fired ;  they  escorted 
him  to  the  limits  of  the  property,  and  told  him  that  if  he  ever 
returned  he  would  be  shot  on  sight.  And  then  at  night  he 
went  up  to  the  cross-roads  store  and  tried  to  give  out  his  litera- 


114  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

ture  there,  and  got  into  a  controversy  with  some  of  the  cracker- 
box  loungers,  one  of  whom  jumped  up  and  shook  his  fist  in 
Jimmie's  face,  shouting,  "Get  out  of  here,  you  dirty  little  louse ! 
If  you  don't  stop  talking  your  treason  round  here,  we'll  come 
down  some  night  and  ride  you  out  of  the  country  on  a  rail!" 


CHAPTER  XII 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  A  PATRIOT 


HPHE  country,  it  seemed,  was  hell-bent  for  war;  and  Jimmie 
•*•  Higgins  was  hell-bent  for  martyrdom.  If  the  great  mad- 
ness were  to  take  possession  of  America,  it  would  not  be  without 
his  having  done  what  he  could  to  prevent.  He  would  stand  in 
the  path  of  the  war-chariot;  he  would  throw  himself  beneath 
the  hoofs  of  the  cavalry,  and  block  the  road  with  his  dead  body. 
To  which  vivid  programme  there  was  only  one  obstacle — or,  to  be 
precise,  four  obstacles,  one  large  and  three  small,  the  large  one 
being  Eleeza  Betooser. 

Poor  Lizzie  of  course  had  no  real  comprehension  of  the 
world-forces  against  which  her  husband  was  contending;  to 
Lizzie,  life  consisted  of  three  babies,  whom  it  was  her  duty 
to  feed  and  protect,  and  a  husband,  who  was  her  instrument 
for  carrying  out  this  duty.  The  world  outside  of  these  was 
to  her  a  vague  and  shadowy  place,  full  of  vague  and  shadowy 
terrors.  Somewhere  up  in  the  sky  was  a  holy  virgin  who  would 
help  when  properly  appealed  to,  but  Lizzie  was  handicapped 
in  appealing  to  this  virgin  by  the  fact  that  her  husband  despised 
the  holy  one,  and  would  cast  insulting  doubts  upon  her  virtue. 

Now  the  shadowy  terrors  of  this  vast  outside  world  were 
moving  to  ends  of  their  own,  and  her  poor,  puny  husband  per- 
sisted in  putting  himself  in  their  way.  He  had  got  turned 
out  of  his  job,  for  the  fourth  or  fifth  time  since  Lizzie  had 
known  him,  and  he  was  in  imminent  danger  of  getting  into- 
jail,  or  into  a  coat  of  tar  and  feathers.  As  the  controversy 
grew  hotter  and  the  peril  greater,  Lizzie  came  to  a  condition 
which  might  have  been  diagnosed  as  chronic  impending  hysteria. 
Her  eyes  were  red  from  secret  weeping,  and  at  the  slightest 
provocation  she  would  burst  into  floods  of  tears  and  throw  her- 
self into  her  husband's  arms.  This  would  start  off  Jimmie 
Junior,  and  the  little  ones,  who  always  took  their  cue  from  him. 

115 


116  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

And  Jimmie  Senior  would  stand  perplexed  and  helpless.  Here 
was  a  new  aspect  of  the  heroic  life,  not  dealt  with  in  the  books. 
He  wondered — had  there  ever  in  history  been  such  a  thing  as  a 
married  martyr?  If  so,  what  had  this  martyr  done  with  his 
family  ? 

Jimmie  would  try  to  explain  to  his  distressed  spouse.  It 
was  a  question  of  saving  a  hundred  million  people  from  the 
horrors  of  war;  what  did  one  man  matter,  in  comparison  with 
that?  But  alas,  the  argument  did  not  carry  at  all,  the  simple 
truth  being  that  the  one  man  mattered  more  to  Lizzie  than  all 
the  other  ninety-nine  million,  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine 
thousand,  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine.  And  besides,  what 
could  the  one  man  do  ?  One  poor,  obscure,  helpless  workingman 
out  of  a  job — — 

"But  it's  the  organisation!"  he  cried.  "It's  all  of  us  to- 
gether— it's  the  party!  We  promised  to  stand  together,  so  we 
got  to  do  it !  If  I  drop  out,  I'm  a  coward,  a  traitor !  We  must 
make  the  workers  understand " 

"But  you  can't!"  cried  Lizzie. 

"But  we're  doin'  it !    Come  see !" 

"And  what  can  they  do  ?" 

Which  of  course  started  Jimmie  off  on  a  propaganda  speech. 
What  could  the  workers  do?  Say  rather,  what  could  they  not 
do  I  How  could  any  war  be  fought  without  the  workers  ?  If 
only  they  would  stand  together,  if  they  would  rise  against  their 
capitalist  oppressors 

"But  they  won't!"  sobbed  the  woman.  "They  got  no  use 
for  you  at  all!  You  go  an'  get  fired — or  you  get  your  face 
beat  in,  like  poor  Bill  Murray " 

"But  is  that  any  worse  than  goin'  to  war?" 

"You  ain't  got  to  go  to  war!" 

"Who  says  I  ain't  ?  I  got  to  go,  if  the  country  goes.  They'll 
drag  me  off  an'  make  me !  If  I  refuse  they'll  shoot  me !  Ain't 
they  doin'  that  in  England  an'  France  an'  Eoosia  an'  all  them 
countries  ?" 

"But  will  they  do  it  here?"  cried  Lizzie,  aghast. 

"Sure  they  will!  That's  exactly  what  they're  gettin'  ready 
for — what  we're  fightin'  to  stop  them  from!  You  don't  know 
what's  goin'  on  in  this  country — listen  here !" 

And  Jimmie  hauled  out  the  last  issue  of  the  "Worker," 
which  quoted  speeches  made  in  Congress,  calling  for  conscrip- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  A  PATRIOT          117 

tion,  declaring  that  such  a  measure  was  an  essential  war-step. 
"Don't  you  see  what  they're  up  to  ?  An'  if  we're  goin'  to  stop 
them,  we  gotta  act  now,  before  it's  too  late.  Hadn't  I  just  as 
good  go  to  jail  here  in  Leesville  as  be  shipped  over  to  Europe  to 
be  shot — or  maybe  drowned  by  a  submarine  on  the  way?" 

And  thus  a  new  terror  was  introduced  into  Lizzie's  life — 
robbing  her  of  sleep  for  many  a  night  thereafter,  planting  in 
her  mother-heart  for  the  first  time  the  idea  that  she  might  be 
concerned  in  the  world-war.  "What'd  become  of  the  babies?" 
she  wailed;  and  Jimmie  answered:  Whose  business  was  it  to 
bother  about  working-class  babies,  under  the  hellish  capitalist 
system  ? 

ii 

So  Jimmie  had  his  way  for  a  bit — he  went  into  Leesville 
and  helped  distribute  literature,  and  held  the  torch  at  street- 
meetings,  where  some  people  hooted  at  them  and  others  defended 
them,  and  the  police  had  to  interfere  to  prevent  a  riot.  It  was  at 
this  time  that  a  militant  majority  was  trying  to  drive  through 
the  Senate  a  declaration  of  war  against  Germany,  and  a  hand- 
ful of  pacifists  blocked  the  way  in  the  closing  hours  of  the 
session,  thus  causing  a  delay  of  several  weeks.  How  you  re- 
garded this  action  depended  upon  your  point  of  view.  The 
President  denounced  them  as  "wilful  men,"  and  the  Wall  Street 
newspapers  apparently  wanted  them  lynched;  whereas  Jimmie 
and  his  fellows  in  the  local  hailed  them  as  heroes  and  friends 
of  mankind.  The  Socialists  argued  that  the  President  had 
been  re-elected,  only  four  months  before,  by  pacifist  votes,  and 
upon  a  pacifist  platform ;  and  now  he  was  sweeping  the  country 
into  war,  and  denouncing  those  who  stood  upon  his  former 
convictions ! 

On  top  of  this  came  another  event  which  set  Jimmie  almost 
beside  himself  with  excitement.  For  three  days  all  news  from 
Petrograd  was  cut  off;  and  then  came  a  report,  electrifying 
the  world — the  Tsar  had  been  overthrown,  the  Russian  people 
were  free !  Jimmie  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes ;  he  went  in 
to  the  meeting  of  the  local  three  nights  later,  to  find  the  com- 
rades celebrating  as  if  the  world  were  theirs.  Here  was  the 
thing  they  had  been  preaching,  day  in  and  day  out,  all  these 
weary  years,  amid  ridicule,  hatred  and  persecution;  here  waa 


118  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

the  Social  Revolution,  knocking  at  the  gates  of  the  world!  It 
would  spread  to  Austria  and  Germany,  to  Italy,  France,  Eng- 
land— and  so  to  Leesville !  Everywhere  the  people  would  come 
into  their  own,  and  war  and  tyranny  would  vanish  like  a  hate- 
ful nightmare! 

Speaker  after  speaker  got  up  to  proclaim  this  glorious  future ; 
they  sang  the  Marseillaise  and  the  Internationale,  and  the 
Russians  who  were  present  clasped  one  another  in  their  arms, 
with  tears  running  down  their  cheeks.  It  was  voted  that  they 
must  hold  a  mass-meeting  immediately,  to  explain  this  epoch- 
making  event  to  the  people  of  the  city;  also  they  must  stand 
more  firmly  than  ever  by  their  programme  of  opposition  to 
war.  Now,  with  Social  Revolution  knocking  at  the  gates  of 
the  world,  what  was  the  use  of  America's  going  in  for  militarism  ? 

So  Jimmie  set  to  work  with  redoubled  fervour,  giving  all 
his  time  to  agitation.  He  had  apparently  no  chance  of  getting 
a  job,  and  for  the  moment  he  gave  up  trying.  The  keeper  of 
the  cross-roads  store,  being  down  on  Him  because  of  his  ideas, 
refused  him  any  more  credit;  and  so  poor  Lizzie  was  driven  to 
do  what  she  had  vowed  never  to  do — take  off  the  stocking  from 
her  right  leg,  and  unsew  the  bandage  from  her  ankle,  and 
extract  one  of  the  ten  precious  twenty  dollar  bills.  Their 
bright  yellow  was  considerably  faded  now,  their  beautiful  crisp- 
ness  gone  entirely;  but  the  store-keeper  made  no  kick  on  that 
account — he  returned  the  change,  and  incidentally  took  occasion 
to  give  her  a  friendly  warning  concerning  her  husband's  reck- 
less talk.  There  was  trouble  coming  to  him,  and  his  wife  had 
better  shut  him  up  before  it  was  too  late.  So  poor  Lizzie  ceased 
being  a  pacifist,  and  went  home  to  have  more  hysterics  on  her 
husband's  bosom. 

in 

Being  unable  to  hold  him  back,  she  sent  word  by  the  mail- 
carrier  to  old  Peter  Drew  to  come  up  and  help ;  the  old  farmer 
hitched  up  his  bony  mare  and  drove  to  see  them,  and  for  a 
couple  of  hours  talked  America  while  Jimmie  talked  Rus- 
sia. Was  America  to  lie  down  before  the  Kaiser?  Jimmie 
would  answer  that  they  were  going  to  bring  down  the  Kaiser 
in  the  same  way  they  had  brought  down  the  Tsar.  The 
workers  of  Russia  having  shown  the  way,  nevermore  would  the 
workers  of  any  nation  bow  to  the  yoke  of  slavery.  Yes,  even 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  A  PATRIOT          119 

in  the  so-called  republics,  such  as  France,  which  was  ruled  by 
bankers,  and  America,  which  was  ruled  by  Wall  Street — even 
here,  the  workers  would  read  the  lesson  of  revolt ! 

"But  in  America  the  people  can  get  anything  they  want  V9 

cried  the  bewildered  old  man.    "They  only  have  to  vote " 

"Vote?"  snarled  Jimmie.  "An'  have  their  votes  thrown  out 
by  some  rotten  political  gang,  like  they  got  here  in  Leesville? 
Don't  talk  to  me  about  votin' — they  told  me  I'd  moved  into  a 
new  district  an'  lost  my  vote — lost  it  because  I  lost  my  job ! 
So  it's  old  man  Granitch  has  the  say  whether  I  can  vote  or 
not!  You'll  find  the  same  thing  true  of  two-thirds  of  the 
men  in  the  Empire  Shops — half  the  unskilled  men  in  the  coun- 
try got  no  votes,  because  they  got  no  home,  no  nothinV 

"But,"  argued  the  old  soldier,  "how  will  you  run  your  new 
working-class  government,  if  not  by  votes?" 

"Sure,  we'll  run  it  by  votes,"  Jimmie  answered — "but  first 
we'll  turn  out  the  capitalists;  they  won't  have  the  money  to 
buy  political  machines ;  they  won't  own  the  newspapers  an'  print 
lies  about  us.  Look  at  this  Leesville  'Herald'  right  now — just 
plain  downright  lies  they  print — we  can't  get  any  truth  at  all 
to  the  people." 

And  so  it  went.  It  was  of  no  use  for  the  old  man  to  plead 
for  the  "country";  to  Jimmie  the  "country"  had  let  itself  be 
lost,  suppressed,  taken  over  by  the  capitalists,  the  "plutes." 
Jimmie's  sense  of  loyalty  was  not  to  his  country,  but  to  his 
class,  which  had  been  exploited,  hounded,  driven  from  pillar 
to  post.  In  past  times  the  government  had  allowed  itself  to 
be  used  by  corporations;  so  now  it  was  in  vain  that  the  Presi- 
dent made  appeals  for  justice  and  democracy,  using  the  beautiful 
language  of  idealism.  Jimmie  did  not  believe  that  he  meant 
it;  or  anyhow,  Wall  Street  would  see  that  nothing  came  of 
his  promises.  The  "plutes"  would  take  his  words  and  twist 
them  into  whatever  sense  they  wished ;  and  meantime  they  went 
on  pouring  out  abuse  on  Jimmie  Higgins — throwing  the  same 
old  mud  into  his  eyes,  blinding  him  with  the  same  old  hatred. 
So  there  was  no  way  for  an  old  soldier  and  patriot  to  break 
through  the  armour  of  Jimmie's  prejudice. 

IV 

Next  day  was  to  be  the  great  mass-meeting  in  celebration  of 
the  Eussian  revolution;  and  would  you  believe  it,  Lizzie  was 


120  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

hoping  to  persuade  Jimmie  to  stay  away;  she  had  brought  Mr. 
Drew  to  help  persuade  him !  Poor  Lizzie  had  visions  of  every- 
body in  the  hall  being  carted  off  to  jail,  of  Jimmie  getting  up 
and  shouting  something,  causing  the  police  to  fall  on  him  and 
beat  in  his  skull  with  their  clubs.  It  was  in  vain  he  declared 
that  he  was  going  to  do  nothing  more  romantic  than  sell  litera- 
ture and  act  as  usher.  She  clasped  him  in  her  arms,  weeping 
copiously,  and  when  he  was  still  obdurate,  she  declared  that 
she  would  go  with  him.  She  would  try  to  persuade  Mrs.  Drew 
to  take  care  of  the  babies  for  one  night. 

Old  Peter  Drew  answered  that  he  would  be  interested  to 
attend  the  meeting  himself.  How  would  it  do  for  him  to  come 
for  Lizzie  and  the  little  ones,  and  leave  the  latter  at  his  home, 
and  then  drive  with  Lizzie  to  the  meeting?  They  could  meet 
Jimmie  at  the  Opera-house,  where  he  would  be  spending  the 
day  decorating.  Then  after  the  meeting  they  could  all  drive 
back  together.  Fine!  said  Jimmie,  who  had  visions  of  the 
old  soldier  becoming  infected  with  revolutionary  fever. 

But  alas,  it  did  not  work  out  that  way.  To  Jimmie's  con- 
sternation the  old  man  turned  up  at  the  Opera-house  in  a  faded 
blue  uniform  with  brass  buttons  all  over  it !  Everybody  stared, 
of  course;  and  they  stared  all  the  harder  because  they  saw  this 
military  personage  in  company  with  Comrade  Higgins.  The 
old  boy  gazed  about  at  the  swarms  of  people,  many  of  them 
with  red  buttons,  the  women  with  red  ribbons  or  sashes;  he 
gazed  at  the  decorations — the  huge  flag  and  the  long  red  stream- 
ers, the  banner  of  the  Karl  Marx  Yerein,  and  the  banner  of  the 
Ypsels,  or  Young  Peoples'  Socialist  League  of  Leesville,  and 
the  banner  of  the  Machinists'  Union,  Local  4717,  and  of  the 
Carpenters'  Union,  District  529,  and  of  the  Workers'  Co-opera- 
tive Society.  He  turned  to  Jimmie  and  said,  "Where's  the 
American  flag?" 

The  Liederkranz  sang  the  Marseillaise,  and  after  the  audi- 
ence had  cheered  and  waved  red  handkerchiefs  and  shouted 
itself  hoarse,  Comrade  Gerrity,  the  chairman,  made  a  little 
speech.  For  many  years  all  Socialists  had  been  accustomed  to 
employ  a  metaphor  by  which  to  describe  conditions  in  their 
country,  and  now  they  would  no  longer  be  able  to  use  it,  for 
Eussia  was  free,  and  America  would  follow  her  example  when 
she  had  the  sense.  He  introduced  Comrade  Pavel  Michaelo- 
vitch,  who  had  come  all  the  way  from  New  York  to  tell  them 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  A  PATRIOT          121 

the  meaning  of  the  greatest  event  of  history.  Comrade  Pavel, 
a  slender,  frail,  scholarly-looking  man  with  a  black  beard  and 
black-rimmed  spectacles,  said  a  few  words  in  Russian,  and 
then  he  talked  for  an  hour  in  broken  English,  explaining  how 
the  Russians  had  won  their  way  to  freedom,  and  now  would  use 
it  to  set  free  the  rest  of  the  proletariat.  And  then  came  Com- 
rade Schultze,  of  the  Carpet  Weavers'  Union,  assuring  them 
that  there  was  no  need  to  go  to  war  with  Germany,  because 
the  German  workers  had  been  shown  the  way  to  freedom,  and 
would  follow  very  soon;  Schultze  knew,  because  his  brother  was 
editor  of  a  Socialist  paper  in  Leipzig,  and  he  had  inside  in- 
formation as  to  what  was  going  on  in  the  Fatherland. 

Then  Comrade  Smith,  the  editor  of  the  "Worker/'  was  intro- 
duced, and  the  trouble  began.  The  young  editor  wasted  no 
time  in  preliminaries ;  he  was  an  international  revolutionist,  and 
no  capitalist  government  was  going  to  draft  him  for  its  bloody 
knaveries.  Never  would  he  be  led  out  to  murder  his  fellow- 
workers,  whether  in  Germany,  Austria,  Bulgaria  or  Turkey; 
the  masters  of  Wall  Street  would  find  that  when  they  set  out  to 
drive  American  freemen  to  the  slaughter-pen,  they  had  made 
the  mistake  of  their  greedy  lives.  "Understand  me,"  declared 
Comrade  Smith — though  there  seemed  so  far  to  have  been 
nothing  in  which  any  one  could  possibly  have  misunderstood 
him — "understand  me,  I  am  no  pacifist,  I  am  not  opposed  to 
war — it  is  merely  that  I  purpose  to  choose  the  war  in  which  I 
fight.  If  they  try  to  put  a  gun  into  my  hands,  I  shall  not 
refuse  to  take  it — not  much,  for  I  and  my  fellow  wage-slaves 
have  long  wished  for  guns !  But  I  shall  use  my  own  judgment 
as  to  where  I  aim  that  gun — whether  at  enemies  in  front  of  me, 
or  at  enemies  behind  me — whether  at  my  brothers,  the  working- 
men  of  Germany,  or  at  my  oppressors,  the  exploiters  of  Wall 
Street,  their  newspaper  lackeys  and  military  martinets!" 

The  sentences  of  this  speech  came  like  the  blows  of  a  ham- 
mer, and  they  struck  forth  a  clamour  of  applause  from  the 
audience.  But  suddenly  the  cheering  crowd  became  aware  that 
something  out  of  the  ordinary  was  happening.  An  aged,  white- 
whiskered  man  clad  in  a  faded  blue  uniform  had  risen  from 
his  seat  in  the  middle  of  the  hall  and  was  shouting  and  waving 
his  arms.  People  near  him  were  trying  to  pull  him  down  into 
his  seat,  but  he  would  not  be  squelched,  he  went  on  shouting; 
and  the  audience  in  part  fell  silent  out  of  curiosity.  "Shame ! 


122  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Shame!"  they  heard  him  cry.  "Shame  upon  you!"  And  he 
pointed  a  trembling  finger  at  the  orator,  declaring,  "You  are 
talking  treason,  young  man  I" 

"Sit  down  !"  shrieked  the  crowd.     "Shut  up  !" 

But  the  old  man  turned  upon  them.  "Are  there  no  Ameri- 
cans at  all  in  this  audience?  Will  you  listen  to  this  shameless 
traitor  without  one  word?" 

People  caught  him  by  the  coat-tails,  men  shook  their  fists 
at  him;  at  the  other  side  of  the  hall  "Wild  Bill"  leaped  up  on 
a  chair,  shrieking :  "Cut  his  throat,  the  old  geezer !" 

Two  policemen  came  running  down  the  aisle,  and  the  "old 
geezer"  appealed  to  them:  "What  are  you  here  for,  if  not  to 
protect  the  flag  and  the  honour  of  America?"  But  the  police- 
men insisted  that  he  stop  interrupting  the  meeting,  and  so  the 
old  man  turned  and  stalked  out  from  the  hall.  But  he  did  not 
go  until  he  had  turned  once  more  and  shaken  his  fist  at  the 
crowd,  yelling  in  his  cracked  voice,  "Traitors !  Traitors !" 


Poor  Jimmie  remained  in  his  seat,  overwhelmed.  That  he, 
the  most  devoted  of  workers  for  Socialism,  should  have  been 
the  cause  of  such  a  disgraceful  scene — bringing  to  this  revolu- 
tionary meeting  a  man  in  the  uniform  of  a  killer  of  the  work- 
ing-class !  He  could  not  stay  and  face  the  comrades ;  before  the 
speaking  had  finished  he  gave  Lizzie  a  nudge,  and  the  two  got 
up  and  stole  out,  dodging  every  one  they  knew. 

Outside  they  stood  in  perplexity.  They  thought,  of  course, 
that  the  old  man  would  have  driven  away  without  them;  they 
pictured  the  long  walk  from  the  trolley-line  in  the  darkness  and 
mud — and  with  Lizzie  dressed  in  her  only  Sunday-go-to-meeting ! 
But  when  they  went  to  the  place  where  Mr.  Drew  had  left  his 
buggy,  to  their  surprise  they  found  him  patiently  waiting  for 
them.  Seeing  them  hesitate,  he  said,  "Come !  Get  in !"  They 
were  much  embarrassed,  but  obeyed,  and  the  old  mare  started 
her  amble  towards  home. 

They  rode  for  a  long  time  in  silence.  Finally  Jimmie 
could  not  stand  it,  and  began,  "I'm  so  sorry,  Mr.  Drew.  You 

don't  understand "  But  the  old  man  cut  him  off :  "There's 

no  use  you  and  me  tryin'  to  talk,  young  man."  So  they  rode 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  A  PATRIOT          123 

the  rest  of  the  way  without  a  sound — except  that  once  Jimmie 
imagined  he  heard  Lizzie  sobbing  to  herself. 

Jimmie  really  felt  terribly  about  it,  for  he  had  for  this  old 
soldier  a  deep  respect,  even  an  affection.  Mr.  Drew  had  made 
his  impression  not  so  much  by  his  arguments,  which  Jimmie 
considered  sixty  years  out  of  date,  as  by  his  personality.  Here 
was  one  patriot  who  was  straight !  What  a  pity  that  he  could 
not  understand  the  revolutionary  point  of  view!  What  a  pity 
that  he  had  to  be  made  angry !  It  was  one  more  of  the  horrors 
of  war,  which  tore  friends  apart,  and  set  them  to  disputing 
and  hating  one  another. 

At  least,  that  was  the  way  it  seemed  to  Jimmie  that  night, 
while  he  was  still  full  of  the  speeches  he  had  heard.  But  at 
other  times  doubts  assailed  him — for  of  course  a  man  cannot 
defy  and  combat  a  whole  community  without  sometimes  being 
led  to  wonder  whether  the  community  may  not  have  some  right 
on  its  side.  Jimmie  would  hear  of  things  the  Germans  had 
done  in  the  war;  they  were  such  dirty  fighters,  they  went  out 
of  their  way  to  do  such  utterly  revolting  and  useless,  almost 
insane  things!  They  made  it  so  needlessly  hard  for  any  one 
who  tried  to  defend  them  to  think  of  them  even  as  human 
beings.  Jimmie  would  argue  that  he  did  not  mean  to  help  the 
Germans;  he  would  resent  bitterly  the  charges  of  the  Leesville 
newspapers  that  he  was  a  German  agent  and  a  traitor;  but  he 
could  not  get  away  from  the  uncomfortable  fact  that  the  things 
he  was  doing  did  have  a  tendency  to  further  German  interests, 
at  least  for  a  time. 

When  that  was  pointed  out  to  him  by  some  patriot  in  a  con- 
troversy, his  answer  would  be  that  he  was  appealing  to  the 
German  Socialists  to  revolt  against  their  military  leaders;  but 
then  the  patriot  would  begin  to  find  fault  with  the  German 
Socialists,  declaring  that  they  were  much  better  Germans  than 
Socialists,  and  citing  utterances  and  actions  to  prove  it.  One 
German  Socialist  had  stood  up  in  the  Eeichstag  and  declared 
that  the  Germans  had  two  ways  of  fighting — their  armies  over- 
came their  enemies  in  the  field,  while  their  Socialists  under- 
mined the  morale  of  the  workers  in  enemy  countries.  When 
that  passage  was  read  to  Jimmie,  he  answered  that  it  was  a 
lie ;  no  such  speech  had  ever  been  made  by  a  Socialist.  He  had 
no  way  of  proving  it  was  a  lie,  of  course;  he  just  knew  it! 
But  then,  when  he  went  away  and  thought  it  over,  he  began  to 


124  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

wonder;  suppose  it  were  true!  Suppose  the  German  workers 
had  been  so  drilled  and  schooled  in  childhood  that  even  those 
who  called  themselves  revolutionists  were  patriots  at  heart! 
Jimmie  would  begin  to  piece  this  and  that  together — things 
he  had  heard  or  read.  Certainly  these  German  Socialists  were 
not  displaying  any  great  boldness  in  fighting  their  government ! 

The  answer  was  that  they  could  not  oppose  their  govern- 
ment, because  they  would  be  put  in  jail.  But  that  was  a  pretty 
poor  answer;  it  was  their  business  to  go  to  jail — if  not,  what 
right  had  they  to  expect  Jimmie  Higgins  to  go  here  in  America  ? 
Jimmie  presented  this  problem  to  Comrade  Meissner,  who  an- 
swered that  if  Jimmie  would  go  first,  then  doubtless  the  Ger- 
man comrades  would  follow.  But  Jimmie  could  not  see  why 
he  should  be  first;  and  when  they  tried  to  clear  up  the  reason, 
it  developed  that  down  in  his  heart  Jimmie  had  begun  to  believe 
that  Germany  was  more  to  blame  for  the  war  than  America. 
And  not  merely  would  Comrade  Meissner  not  admit  that,  but 
he  became  excited  and  vehement,  trying  to  convince  Jimmie  that 
the  other  capitalist  governments  of  the  world  were  the  cause  of 
the  war — Germany  was  only  defending  herself  against  them! 
So  there  they  were,  involved  in  a  controversy,  just  like  any  two 
non-revolutionary  people !  Eepeating  over  the  same  arguments 
which  had  gone  on  in  the  local  between  Norwood,  the  lawyer, 
and  Schneider,  the  brewer;  only  this  time  Jimmie  was  taking 
the  side  of  Norwood !  Jimmie  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
the  disconcerting  fact  that  his  devoted  friend  Meissner  was  a 
German — and  therefore  in  some  subtle  way  different  from 
him,  unable  to  see  things  as  he  did! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DODGES  TROUBLE 


WAR  or  no  war,  the  soil  had  to  be  ploughed  and  seed  sown; 
so  John  Cutter  came  to  his  tenant  and  proposed  that  he 
should  resume  his  job  as  farm-hand.  Only  he  must  agree  to 
shut  up  about  the  war,  for  while  Cutter  himself  was  not  a 
rabid  patriot,  he  would  take  no  chances  of  having  his  tenant- 
house  burned  down  some  night.  So  there  was  another  discus- 
sion in  the  Higgins  family.  Lizzie  remembered  how  during  the 
previous  summer  Jimmie  had  worked  from  dawn  till  dark,  and 
been  too  tired  even  to  read  Socialist  papers,  to  say  nothing  of 
carrying  on  propaganda:  which  seemed  to  the  distracted  wife 
of  a  propagandist  the  most  desirable  condition  possible!  Poor 
Eleeza  Betooser — twice  again  she  had  been  compelled  to  take 
down  the  stocking  from  her  right  leg,  and  unsew  the  bandage 
round  her  ankle,  and  extract  another  of  those  precious  yellow 
twenty  dollar  bills;  there  were  only  seven  of  them  left  now, 
and  each  of  them  was  more  valuable  to  Lizzie  than  her  eye- 
teeth. 

Jimmie  finally  agreed  that  he  would  gag  himself,  so  far  as 
concerned  this  country-side.  What  was  the  use  of  trying  to 
teach  anything  to  these  barnyard  boobs?  They  wanted  war — 
let  them  go  to  war,  and  be  blown  to  bits  or  poisoned  in  the 
trenches !  If  Jimmie  had  propaganding  to  do,  he  would  do  it 
in  the  city,  where  the  workingmen  had  brains,  and  knew  who 
their  enemies  were.  So  once  more  Jimmie  harnessed  up  John 
Cutter's  horses  to  the  plough,  and  went  out  into  John  Cutter's 
field  to  raise  another  crop  of  corn  for  a  man  whom  he  hated. 
All  day  he  guided  the  plough  or  the  harrow,  and  at  night  he  fed 
and  cared  for  the  horses  and  the  cows,  and  then  he  came  home 
and  ate  his  supper,  listening  to  the  rattling  of  the  long  freight- 

125 


126  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

train  that  went  through  his  back  yard,  carrying  materials  for 
the  making  of  TNT. 

For  the  great  explosives  plant  was  now  working  day  and 
night,  keeping  the  war  in  Jimmie's  thoughts  all  the  time, 
whether  he  would  or  not.  In  the  midnight  hours  the  trains  of 
finished  materials  went  out,  making  Jimmie's  windows  rattle 
with  their  rumble  and  clatter,  and  bearing  his  fancies  away  to 
the  battle-line  across  the  seas,  where  men  were  soon  to  be  blown 
to  pieces  with  the  contents  of  these  cars.  One  night  something 
went  wrong  on  the  track,  and  the  train  stopped  in  his  back  yard, 
and  in  the  morning  he  saw  the  cars,  painted  black,  with  the 
word  "Danger"  in  flaming  red  letters.  On  top  of  the  cars 
walked  a  man  with  a  club  in  his  hand  and  a  bulge  on  his  hip, 
keeping  guard. 

It  appeared  that  some  one  had  torn  up  a  rail  in  the  night, 
evidently  for  the  purpose  of  wrecking  the  train;  so  there  came 
a  detective  to  Jimmie,  while  he  was  working  in  the  field,  to 
cross-question  him.  They  had  Jimmie's  record,  and  suspected 
him  of  knowing  more  than  he  would  tell.  "Aw,  go  to  hell!" 
exclaimed  the  irate  Socialist.  "D'you  suppose,  if  I'd  wanted 
to  smash  anything,  I'd  'a  done  it  on  the  place  where  I  work?" 
And  then,  when  he  went  home  to  dinner,  he  found  that  they 
had  been  after  Lizzie,  and  had  frightened  her  out  of  her  wits. 
They  had  threatened  to  turn  them  out  of  their  home;  Jimmie 
saw  himself  hounded  here  and  there  by  this  accursed  war — 
until  it  finished  by  seizing  him  and  dragging  him  to  the 
trenches  I 

II 

The  new  Congress  had  met,  and  declared  a  state  of  war 
with  Germany,  and  the  whole  country  was  rushing  into  arms. 
Men  were  enlisting  by  hundreds  of  thousands;  but  that  was 
not  enough  for  the  militarists — they  wanted  a  conscription-law, 
so  that  every  man  might  be  compelled  to  go.  If  they  were  so 
sure  of  themselves  and  their  wonderful  war,  why  weren't  they 
satisfied  to  let  those  fight  it  who  wanted  to  ?  — So  argued  the 
rebellious  Jimmie  and  his  anti-militarist  associates.  But  no! 
the  militarists  knew  perfectly  well  that  the  bulk  of  the  people 
did  not  want  to  fight,  so  they  proposed  to  make  them  fight. 
Every  energy  of  the  Socialist  movement  was  now  concentrated 
on  the  blocking  of  this  conscription  scheme. 


JIMMIE  fflGGINS  DODGES  TROUBLE          127 

Local  Leesville  hired  the  Opera-house  again,  organising  a 
mass-meeting  of  protest,  and  the  capitalist  papers  of  the  city 
began  clamouring  against  this  meeting.  Was  the  patriotism 
and  loyalty  of  Leesville  to  be  affronted  by  another  gathering  of 
sedition  and  treason?  The  "Herald"  told  all  over  again  the 
story  of  the  gallant  old  civil  war  veteran  who  had  risen  in  his 
seat  and  shouted  his  protest  against  the  incitements  of  "Jack" 
Smith,  the  notorious  "red"  editor.  The  "Herald"  printed  a 
second  time  the  picture  of  the  gallant  old  veteran  in  his  faded 
blue  uniform,  and  the  list  of  battles  in  which  he  had  fought, 
from  the  first  Bull  Run  to  the  last  siege  of  Richmond.  Some 
farmer  passing  by  handed  a  copy  of  this  paper  to  Lizzie,  adding 
that  if  there  was  any  more  treason-talk  in  this  locality  there 
was  going  to  be  a  lynching-bee.  So  Jimmie  found  his  wife  in 
tears  again.  She  was  absolutely  determined  that  he  should  not 
go  to  that  meeting.  For  three  days  she  wept  and  argued  with 
him,  and  for  a  part  of  three  nights. 

It  would  have  been  comical  if  it  had  not  been  so  tragic.  Jim- 
mie would  use  the  old  argument,  that  if  he  did  not  succeed  in 
stopping  the  war,  he  would  be  dragged  into  the  trenches  and 
killed.  So,  of  course,  Lizzie  would  become  a  pacifist  at  once. 
What  right  had  the  war  to  take  Jimmie  from  her?  The  little 
Jimmies  had  a  right  to  their  father !  All  children  had  a  right 
to  their  fathers!  But  then,  after  Lizzie  had  expressed  these 
tearful  convictions,  Jimmie  would  say,  All  right,  then  he  must 
go  to  that  meeting,  he  must  do  what  he  could  to  prevent  the 
war.  And  poor  Lizzie  would  find  herself  suddenly  confronting 
the  terrors  of  the  police  with  their  clubs  and  the  patriots  with 
their  buckets  of  tar  and  bags  of  feathers!  No,  Jimmie  must 
not  carry  on  any  propaganda,  Jimmie  must  not  go  to  the  meet- 
ing !  Poor  Jimmie  would  try  to  pin  her  down :  which  way  did 
she  want  him  killed,  by  the  Germans,  or  by  the  police  and  the 
mobs?  But  Lizzie  did  not  want  him  killed  either  way!  She 
wanted  him  to  go  on  living! 

Jimmie  would  try  to  arrange  a  compromise  for  the  present. 
He  would  go  to  the  meeting,  but  he  would  promise  not  to  say 
a  word.  But  that  did  not  console  Lizzie — she  knew  that  if 
anything  happened,  her  man  would  get  into  it.  No,  if  he  were 
determined  to  go,  she  would  go  too — even  if  they  had  to  load 
the  three  babies  into  the  perambulator,  and  push  them  two  or 
three  miles  to  the  trolley !  If  Jimmie  tried  to  make  a  speech,. 


128  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

she  would -hang  onto  his  coat-tails,  she  would  clasp  her  hands 
over  his  mouth,  she  would  throw  herself  between  him  and  the 
clubs  of  the  policemen! 

So  matters  stood,  when  on  the  afternoon  before  the  meeting 
there  came  a  heavy  rain,  and  the  road  to  the  trolley  was  ren- 
dered impossible  for  a  triple-loaded  baby-carriage.  So  there 
were  more  hysterics  in  the  family;  Jimmie  took  his  wife's  hand 
in  his  and  solemnly  swore  to  her  that  she  might  trust  him  to 
go  to  this  meeting,  he  would  not  do  anything  that  could  by  any 
possibility  get  him  into  trouble.  He  would  not  try  to  make 
a  speech,  he  would  not  get  up  and  shout — no  matter  what  hap- 
pened, he  would  not  say  a  word!  He  would  merely  sell 
pamphlets,  and  show  people  to  their  seats,  as  he  had  done  at  a 
hundred  meetings  before.  To  make  sure  of  his  immunity,  he 
would  even  leave  off  the  red  badge  which  he  was  accustomed 
to  display  on  Socialist  occasions!  By  these  pledges  repeated 
over  and  over,  he  finally  succeeded  in  pacifying  his  weeping 
spouse,  and  gently  removed  her  clutch  on  his  coat-tails,  and 
departed,  waving  his  hand  to  her  and  the  kids. 

The  last  thing  he  saw  through  the  rain  was  Jimmie  Junior, 
flourishing  a  red  handkerchief  which  Lizzie  at  the  last  moment 
had  extracted  from  her  husband's  pocket.  The  last  sound  he 
heard  was  Jimmie  Junior's  voice,  shouting :  "You  be  good  now ! 
You  shut  up  I"  Jimmie  went  off,  thinking  about  this  little  tike ; 
he  was  five  years  old,  and  growing  so  that  you  could  notice  the 
difference  over  night.  He  had  big  black  eyes  like  his  mother, 
and  a  grin  full  of  all  the  mischief  in  the  world.  The  things 
he  knew  and  the  questions  he  asked !  Jimmie  and  Lizzie  never 
got  tired  of  talking  about  them;  Jimmie  recalled  them  one 
by  one,  as  he  trudged  through  the  mud — and,  as  always,  he  set 
his  lips  and  clenched  his  hands,  and  took  up  anew  the  task  of 
making  the  world  a  fit  place  for  a  workingman's  child  to  grow 
up  in ! 

Ill 

The  principal  orator  of  the  evening  was  a  young  college 
professor  who  had  been  turned  out  of  his  job  for  taking  the 
side  of  the  working-class  in  his  public  utterances,  and  who  was 
therefore  a  hero  to  Jimmie  Higgins.  This  young  man  had  the 
facts  of  the  war  at  his  finger  tips;  he  made  you  see  it  as  a 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DODGES  TROUBLE 

gigantic  conspiracy  of  capitalists  the  world  over  to  complete 
their  grip  on  the  raw  materials  of  wealth,  and  on  the  bodies  and 
souls  of  the  workers.  He  bitterly  denounced  those  who  had 
forced  the  country  into  the  war;  he  denounced  the  Wall  Street 
speculators  and  financiers  who  had  made  their  billions  already, 
and  would  be  making  their  tens  of  billions.  He  denounced  the 
plan  to  force  men  to  fight  who  did  not  wish  to  fight,  and  his 
every  sentence  was  followed  by  a  burst  of  applause  from  the 
throng  which  packed  the  Opera-house.  If  you  judged  by  this 
meeting,  you  would  conclude  that  America  was  on  the  verge 
of  a  revolution  against  the  war. 

The  young  professor  sat  down,  wiping  the  perspiration  from 
his  pale  forehead;  and  then  the  Liederkranz  sang  again — only 
it  was  not  called  the  Liederkranz  now,  it  had  become  known  as 
the  "Workers'  Singing  Society/'  out  of  deference  to  local  preju- 
dice. Then  arose  Comrade  Smith,  editor  of  the  "Worker,"  and 
announced  that  after  the  collection  the  orator  would  answer 
questions;  then  Comrade  Smith  launched  into  a  speech  of  his 
own,  to  the  effect  that  something  definite  ought  to  be  done  by 
the  workers  of  Leesville  to  make  clear  their  opposition  to  being 
dragged  into  war.  For  his  part  he  wished  to  say  that  he  would 
not  yield  one  inch  to  the  war-clamour — he  was  on  record  as 
refusing  to  be  drafted  in  any  capitalist  war,  and  he  was  ready 
to  join  with  others  to  agree  that  they  would  not  be  drafted.  The 
time  was  short — -if  anything  were  to  be  done,  they  must  act 
at  once — 

And  then  suddenly  came  an  interruption — this  time  not  from 
an  old  soldier,  but  from  a  sergeant  of  police  who  had  been  stand- 
ing at  one  side  of  the  stage,  and  who  now  stepped  forward, 
announcing,  "This  meeting  is  closed." 

"What  ?"  shouted  the  orator. 

"This  meeting  is  closed,"  repeated  the  other.  "And  you, 
young  man,  are  under  arrest." 

There  was  a  howl  from  the  audience,  and  suddenly  from 
the  pit  in  front  of  the  stage,  whence  ordinarily  the  orchestra 
dispensed  sweet  music,  there  leaped  a  line  of  blue-uniformed 
men,  distributing  themselves  between  the  public  and  the  speaker. 
At  the  same  time  down  the  centre  aisle  came  a  dozen  soldiers 
marching,  with  guns  in  their  hands  and  bayonets  fixed. 

"This  is  an  outrage!"  shouted  Comrade  Smith. 

"Not  another  word!"  commanded  the  police  official;  and 


130  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

two  policemen  who  had  followed  him  grabbed  the  orator  by  each 
arm  and  started  to  lead  him  off  the  stage. 

Comrade  Gerrity  leaped  to  the  front  of  the  platform.  "I 
denounce  this  proceeding!"  he  shouted.  "We  are  holding  an 
orderly  meeting  here " 

A  policeman  laid  hold  of  him.     "You  are  under  arrest." 

Then  came  Comrade  Mabel  Smith,  sister  of  the  editor  of  the 
"Worker."  "For  shame !  For  shame !"  she  cried.  And  then, 
to  a  policeman,  "No,  I  will  not  be  silent!  I  protest  in  the 

name  of  free  speech !  I  declare "  And  when  the  policeman 

seized  her  by  the  arm,  she  continued  to  shout  at  the  top  of 
her  lungs,  driving  the  crowd  to  frenzy. 

There  were  disturbances  all  over  the  audience.  Mrs.  Ger- 
rity, wife  of  the  organiser,  sprang  up  in  her  seat  and  began  to 
protest.  It  happened  that  Jimmie  Higgins  was  in  the  aisle 
not  far  from  her,  and  his  heart  leaped  with  strange,  half-for- 
gotten emotions  as  he  saw  this  trim  little  figure,  with  the  jaunty 
hat  and  the  turkey-feather  stuck  on  one  side.  Comrade  Evelyn 
Baskerville,  of  Greenwich  Village,  she  of  the  fluffy  brown  hair 
and  the  pert  little  dimples  and  the  bold  and  terrifying  ideas, 
she  who  had  so  ploughed  up  the  soul  of  Jimmie  Higgins  and 
almost  broken  up  the  Higgins  home — here  she  was,  employing 
a  new  variety  of  coquetry,  by  which  she  compelled  three  soldiers 
with  rifles  and  bayonets  to  devote  their  exclusive  attention  to 
her! 

And  then  Comrade  Mary  Allen,  the  Quaker  lady,  who  be- 
lieved in  moral  force  applied  through  the  ear-drums.  She  stood 
in  the  aisle  with  her  armful  of  pamphlets  and  her  red  sash 
over  her  shoulder,  proclaiming,  "In  the  name  of  liberty  and 
fair  play  I  protest  against  this  outrage!  I  will  not  see  my 
country  dragged  into  war  without  asserting  my  right  of  protest ! 
I  stand  here,  in  what  is  supposed  to  be  a  Christian  city;  I 

speak  in  the  name  of  the  Prince  of  Peace "  and  so  on,  quite 

a  little  speech,  while  several  embarrassed  young  men  in  khaki 
were  trying  to  find  out  how  to  hold  their  rifles  and  a  shouting 
Quakeress  at  the  same  time. 

And  then  Comrade  Schneider,  the  brewer.  He  had  been 
up  on  the  stage  with  the  singers,  and  now  got  somehow  to  the 
front.  "Haf  we  got  no  rights  in  America  left?"  he  shouted. 
"Do  we  in  this  audience " 

"Shut  up,  you  Hun!"  roared  some  one  in  the  front  of  the 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DODGES  TROUBLE          131 

crowd,  and  three  policemen  at  once  leaped  for  Comrade 
Schneider,  and  grabbed  him  by  the  collar,  twisting  so  hard 
that  the  German's  face,  always  purple  when  he  was  excited, 
took  on  a  dark  and  deadly  hue. 

Poor  Jimmie  Higgins!  He  stood  there  with  his  armful  of 
"War,  What  For?" — trembling  with  excitement,  itching  in 
every  nerve  and  sinew  to  leap  into  this  conflict,  to  make  his 
voice  heard  above  the  uproar,  to  play  his  part  as  a  man — or 
even  as  a  Comrade  Mabel  Smith,  or  a  Comrade  Mary  Allen,  or 
a  Comrade  Mrs.  Gerrity,  nee  Baskerville.  But  he  was  helpless, 
speechless — bound  hand  and  foot  by  those  solemn  pledges  he 
had  given  to  Eleeza  Betooser,  the  mother  of  babies. 

He  looked  about,  and  near  him  in  the  aisle  he  saw  another 
man,  also  bound  hand  and  foot — bound  by  the  memory  of  the 
smash  in  the  face  which  had  broken  his  nose  and  knocked  out 
three  of  his  front  teeth !  "Wild  Bill"  saw  a  policeman  watch- 
ing him  now,  eager  for  another  pretext  to  leap  on  him  and  pound 
him;  so  he  was  silent,  like  Jimmie.  The  two  of  them  had  to 
stand  there  and  see  the  fundamental  constitutional  rights  of 
American  citizens  set  at  naught,  to  see  liberty  trampled  in  the 
dust  beneath  the  boots  of  a  brutal  soldiery,  to  see  justice 
strangled  and  raped  in  the  innermost  shrine  of  her  temple. — 
At  least,  that  was  what  you  had  seen  if  you  read  the  Leesville 
"Worker";  if  on  the  other  hand  you  read  the  "Herald"— which 
nine  out  of  ten  people  did — then  you  learned  that  the  forces 
of  decency  and  order  had  at  last  prevailed  in  Leesville,  the 
propaganda  of  the  Hun  was  stifled  forever,  the  mouthers  of 
sedition  had  felt  the  heavy  hand  of  public  indignation. 

IV 

Outside,  a  crowd  gathered  to  jeer  while  the  prisoners  were 
loaded  into  the  patrol-wagon;  but  the  police  drove  them  away, 
keeping  everybody  moving,  and  breaking  up  several  attempts  at 
street-oratory.  Jimmie  found  himself  with  half  a  dozen  other 
comrades,  wandering  aimlessly  down  Main  Street,  talking  over 
and  over  what  had  happened,  each  explaining  why  and  how  he 
had  not  shared  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  Some  had  shouted  as 
loud  as  the  rest,  but  had  been  missed  by  the  police;  some  had 
thought  it  wiser  to  run  away  and  live  to  shout  another  day; 
some  wanted  to  start  that  very  night  to  print  a  leaflet  and  call 


132  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

another  mass-meeting.  They  adjourned  to  Tom's  "Buffeteria" 
to  talk  things  over;  they  took  possession  of  a  couple  of  tables, 
and  got  their  due  quotas  of  coffee  and  sandwiches,  or  pie  and 
milk,  and  had  just  got  fairly  started  on  the  question  of  raising 
bail  without  the  help  of  Comrade  Dr.  Service — when  suddenly 
something  happened  which  drove  all  thoughts  of  the  meeting 
out  of  their  minds. 

It  was  like  a  gigantic  blow,  striking  the  whole  world  at 
once ;  a  cosmic  convulsion,  quite  indescribable.  The  air  became 
suddenly  a  living  thing,  which  leaped  against  your  face;  the 
windows  of  the  little  eating-place  flew  inward  in  a  shower  of 
glass,  and  the  walls  and  tables  shook  as  if  with  palsy.  The 
sound  of  it  all  was  a  vast,  all-pervasive  sound,  at  once  far  off 
and  near,  tailing  away  in  the  clatter  and  crash  of  innumerable 
panes  of  glass  falling  from  innumerable  windows.  Then  came 
silence,  a  sinister,  frightful  silence,  it  seemed;  men  stared  at 
one  another,  crying,  "My  God!  What's  that?"  The  answer 
seemed  to  dawn  upon  every  one  at  once:  "The  powder-plant!" 

Yes,  that  must  be  it,  beyond  doubt.  For  months  they  had 
been  talking  about  it  and  thinking  about  it,  speculating  as  to 
the  probabilities  and  the  consequences.  And  now  it  had  hap- 
pened. Suddenly  one  of  the  company  gave  a  cry,  and  they 
turned  and  stared  at  his  white  face,  and  realised  the  terror  that 
clutched  his  heart.  Comrade  Higgins,  whose  home  was  so  near 
the  place  of  peril ! 

"Gee,  fellers,  I  gotta  go!"  he  gasped;  and  several  of  the 
comrades  jumped  up  and  ran  with  him  into  the  street.  If 
there  was  a  single  pane  of  glass  left  intact  in  Leesville,  you 
would  not  have  thought  it  as  you  trod  those  side-walks. 

If  Jimmie  had  been  trained  in  efficiency,  and  accustomed  to 
spending  money  more  freely,  he  might  perhaps  have  found  out 
something  by  the  telephone  or  by  inquiry  at  the  newspaper- 
offices;  but  the  one  thing  he  thought  of  was  to  take  the  trolley 
and  get  to  his  home.  The  comrades  ran  with  him,  speculating 
with  eager  excitement,  trying  to  reassure  him — it  could  be 
nothing  worse  than  some  glass  and  some  dishes  smashed.  Some 
had  thought  of  going  all  the  way  with  him,  but  they  remembered 
they  would  be  too  late  for  the  last  trolley  back,  and  they  had 
their  jobs  in  the  morning.  So  they  put  him  on  the  car  and 
bade  him  good-bye. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DODGES  TROUBLE  133 


The  trolley  was  packed  with  people  going  out  to  see  what 
had  happened,  so  Jimmie  had  plenty  of  company  and  conversa- 
tion on  the  way.  But  when  he  came  to  his  stop,  he  got  off 
and  walked  alone,  for  the  others  were  going  to  the  explosives 
plant,  and  they  rode  a  mile  or  so  farther  on  the  car. 

Never  would  Jimmie  forget  that  journey — that  walk  of 
nightmares.  The  road  was  pitch-dark,  and  before  he  had  gone 
more  than  half  the  distance,  he  stumbled  over  something,  and 
fell  head-foremost.  He  got  up,  and  groped,  and  discovered  that 
it  was  a  tree,  lying  prone  across  the  road.  He  searched  his 
mind,  and  remembered  a  great  dead  tree  that  stood  at  that 
spot.  Could  the  explosion  have  knocked  it  down? 

He  went  on,  feeling  his  way  more  cautiously,  yet  goaded  to 
greater  speed  by  his  fears.  A  little  way  farther  was  a  farm- 
house, and  he  went  into  the  yard  and  shouted,  but  got  no  reply. 
The  yard  was  covered  with  shingles,  apparently  blown  from  the 
roof.  He  went  on,  more  frightened  than  ever. 

He  came  to  a  turn  in  the  road  which  he  knew  was  less  than 
half  a  mile  from  his  home;  and  here  there  were  several  horses 
and  wagons  tied,  but  no  one  to  answer  his  calls.  The  road 
passed  through  a  wood;  but  apparently  there  was  no  road  any 
more — the  trees  had  been  picked  up  bodily  and  thrown  across 
it.  Jimmie  had  to  grope  this  way  and  that,  and  he  ran  a  piece 
of  broken  branch  into  his  cheek,  and  by  that  time  was  almost 
ready  to  cry  with  fright.  He  knew  that  his  home  was  two  miles 
from  the  explosives  plant,  and  he  could  not  conceive  how  an 
explosion  could  have  done  such  damage  at  such  a  distance. 

He  saw  a  lantern  ahead,  bobbing  this  way  and  that,  and  he 
shouted  louder  than  ever,  and  finally  succeeded  in  persuading 
the  bearer  of  the  lantern  to  wait  for  him.  It  proved  to  be  a 
farmer  who  lived  some  ways  back ;  he  knew  no  more  than  Jimmie 
did,  and  they  made  their  way  together.  Beyond  the  woods,  the 
road  was  littered  with  loose  dirt,  bushes,  bits  of  fence  and 
rubbish,  burned  black.  "It  must  have  been  near  here,"  de- 
clared the  man,  and  added  words  which  caused  Jimmie's  heart 
almost  to  stand  still,  "It  must  have  been  on  the  railroad-track  I" 

They  came  to  a  little  rise,  from  which  in  day-time  the  line 
of  the  railroad  was  visible.  They  saw  lanterns,  many  of  them, 
moving  here  and  there  like  a  swarm  of  fire-flies.  "Come  this. 


134  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

way,"  Jimmie  begged  of  the  farmer,  and  ran  toward  his  home. 
The  road  was  buried  under  masses  of  earth,  as  if  thousands  of 
steam-shovels  had  emptied  their  contents  on  it.  When  they 
came  to  where  the  fence  of  Jimmie's  house  ought  to  have  been, 
they  found  no  fence,  but  a  slide  of  loose  earth  that  had  never 
been  there  before.  Where  the  apple-tree  had  been  there  was 
nothing ;  where  the  lawn  had  been  there  was  a  pitch  down  a  hill, 
and  where  the  house  had  been  was  a  huge  valley,  seeming  in  the 
darkness  a  bottomless  abyss ! 


VI 

Jimmie  was  distracted.  He  grabbed  the  lantern  from  the 
other  man,  and  ran  this  way  and  that,  looking  for  some  of  the 
familiar  land-marks  of  his  home — the  chicken-house,  the  pig- 
sty, the  back  fence  with  the  broken  elm  tree  in  the  corner,  the 
railroad  beyond.  He  could  not  believe  that  he  had  come  to  the 
place  at  all — he  could  not  credit  the  reality  of  such  night-mare 
sights  as  his  eyes  reported  to  him.  He  rushed  about,  stumbling 
over  mountains  of  upheaved  brown  dirt,  sliding  down  into 
craters  that  were  filled  with  a  strange  penetrating  odour  which 
caused  his  eyes  to  smart;  and  then  clambering  out  again  and 
running  after  men  with  lanterns,  shouting  questions  at  them 
and  not  waiting  for  an  answer.  It  seemed  to  him  that  if  he 
ran  just  a  little  farther  he  must  surely  find  the  house  and  the 
other  things  he  was  looking  for;  but  he  found  nothing  but 
more  craters  and  more  mountains  of  dirt;  and  little  by  little 
the  horrible  truth  became  clear  to  him,  that  all  the  way  down 
the  railroad-track,  as  far  as  he  could  see  or  run,  this  gigantic 
trough  extended,  a  valley  of  raw  dirt  with  mountains  on  each 
side,  crowned  here  and  there  with  wheels  and  axles  and  iron 
trucks  of  blown-up  freight-cars,  and  filled  in  the  bottom  with 
the  deadly  fumes  of  trinitrotoluol ! 

Jimmie  cried  out  to  the  men  and  women  with  lanterns,  ask- 
ing had  they  seen  his  wife  and  babies.  But  no  one  had  seen 
them — no  one  had  notified  them  of  the  impending  explosion ! 
Jimmie  was  sobbing,  calling  out  distractedly;  he  ran  out  to  the 
road,  and  after  much  searching  found  a  charred  tree-stump 
which  gave  him  his  precise  bearings,  so  that  he  knew  where 
the  house  should  have  been,  and  could  assure  himself  that  it 
was  precisely  where  that  frightful  slope  started  down  into  the 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DODGES  TROUBLE          135 

abyss.  He  slid  around  on  this  slope,  calling  aloud,  as  if  he 
expected  the  spirits  of  his  loved  ones  might  have  remained 
there,  defying  all  the  power  of  suddenly  expanding  gases.  He 
ran  back  across  the  road  and  called,  as  if  they  might  have  fled 
that  way. 

At  last  he  ran  into  Mr.  Drew;  old  Mr.  Drew,  who  a  couple 
of  weeks  before  had  taken  Eleeza  Betooser  and  her  three  little 
ones  driving  in  his  buggy!  That  memory  was  the  nearest 
Jimmie  could  get  to  them,  and  so  he  clutched  the  old  soldier's 
arm,  and  held  on  to  it,  weeping  like  a  little  child. 

The  old  man  tried  to  draw  him  away,  to  get  him  to  his  home. 
But  Jimmie  must  stay  on  the  spot,  he  was  held  by  a  spell  of 
horror.  He  wandered  about,  dragging  Mr.  Drew  with  him, 
pleading  with  people  to  no  purpose;  now  and  then  he  would 
break  out  with  curses  against  war-makers,  and  especially  those 
who  made  explosives  and  transported  them  in  freight-trains 
through  other  men's  back  yards.  For  once  people  heard  him 
without  threats  of  lynching. 

So  on  through  this  night  of  anguish.  Jimmie  lost  old  man 
Drew  in  the  darkness,  and  was  all  alone  when  the  dawn  came, 
and  he  could  see  the  sweep  of  desolation  about  him,  and  the 
awe-stricken  faces  of  the  spectators.  Soon  afterwards  came  the 
climax.  He  saw  a  crowd  gathered,  and  as  he  came  up,  this 
crowd  parted  for  him.  Nobody  seemed  to  want  to  speak,  but 
they  all  watched,  as  if  curious  to  see  what  he  would  do.  One 
of  the  men  bore  a  burden,  wrapped  in  a  horse-blanket;  Jimmie 
gazed,  and  after  a  moment's  hesitation  the  man  threw  back 
part  of  the  blanket,  and  there  before  Jimmie's  eyes  was  a  most 
horrible  sight — a  human  leg,  a  large  white  leg,  the  lower  half 
covered  with  a  black  stocking  tied  at  the  top  with  a  bit  of 
tape.  It  was  such  a  leg  as  you  see  in  the  windows  of  stores 
where  they  sell  pretty  things  for  ladies;  only  this  leg  was  soft, 
mangled  at  the  top,  smeared  with  blood,  and  partly  charred 
black.  One  glance  was  enough  for  Jimmie,  and  he  put  his 
hands  over  his  eyes  and  turned  and  ran — out  to  the  road  and 
away,  away — anywhere  from  this  pla^  of  nightmares ! 


VII 

Jimmie's  whole  world  was  wiped  out,  ended.    He  had  no 
place  to  go,  no  care  what  became  of  him.     He  stumbled  on 


136  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

till  he  came  to  the  trolley-track,  and  got  on  the  first  car  which 
came  along.  It  was  pure  chance  that  it  happened  to  be  going 
back  to  Leesville,  for  Jimmie  had  no  longer  any  interest  in 
that  city.  When  the  car  came  to  the  barn,  he  got  out  and 
wandered  aimlessly,  until  he  happened  to  pass  a  saloon  where 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  meet  Jerry  'Coleman,  distributor  of 
ten  dollar  bills.  Jimmie  went  in  and  ordered  a  drink  of 
whiskey;  he  did  not  tell  the  saloon-keeper  what  had  happened, 
but  took  the  drink  to  a  table  and  sat  down  by  himself.  When 
he  had  finished,  he  ordered  another,  because  it  helped  him  not 
to  think ;  he  sat  there  at  the  table,  drinking  steadily  for  an  hour 
or  more.  And  so  upon  his  confused  mind  there  dawned  a 
strange,  a  ghastly  idea,  climax  of  all  that  night  of  horror. 
Which  leg  of  Lizzie  was  it  the  man  had  been  carrying  wrapped 
in  a  horse-blanket?  The  right  leg  or  the  left?  If  it  was  the 
left  leg,  why,  nothing;  but  if  it  was  the  right,  why  then,  under 
the  stocking  was  sewed  a  bandage,  and  in  that  bandage  was 
wrapped  a  package  containing  seven  faded  yellow  twenty  dollar 
bills! 

And  what  would  they  do  about  it?  Would  they  bury  the 
leg  without  investigation  ?  Or  would  the  man  who  had  found 
it  happen  to  undress  it?  And  what  was  Jimmie  to  do?  A 
hundred  and  forty  dollars  was  not  to  be  sneezed  at  by  a  work- 
ing-man— it  was  more  money  than  he  had  ever  had  in  his  life 
before,  or  might  ever  have  again.  But  could  he  go  to  the 
man  and  say,  "Did  you  find  any  money  on  my  wife's  leg?" 
Could  he  say,  "Please  give  me  my  wife's  leg,  so  that  I  can 
undress  it  and  unsew  the  bandage,  and  get  the  money  that  I  was 
paid  for  keeping  quiet  about  the  surgical  operation  on  Lacey 
Granitch,  that  was  done  in  my  house  before  it  was  blown  to 
pieces  by  the  explosion." 

Jimmie  thought  it  all  over  while  he  took  a  couple  more 
drinks,  and  finally  settled  it  to  himself :  "Aw  hell !  What  do  I 
want  with  money?  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  live  no  more !" 


CHAPTER  XIV 

JIMMIB    HIGGINS    TAKES    THE    ROAD 


T[MMIE  HIGGINS  was  wandering  down  the  street,  when  he 
**  ran  into  "Wild  Bill,"  who  was,  of  course,  greatly  surprised 
to  see  his  friend  in  a  drunken  condition.  When  he  heard  the 
reason,  he  revealed  an  unexpected  side  of  his  nature.  If  you 
judged  "Wild  Bill"  by  his  oratory,  you  thought  him  a  creature 
poisoned  through  and  through,  a  soul  turned  rancid  with  envy, 
hatred  and  malice  and  all  uncharitableness.  But  now  the  tears 
came  into  his  eyes,  and  he  put  his  arm  over  Jimmie's  shoulder. 
"Say,  old  pal,  that's  bum  luck!  By  God,  I'm  sorry!"  And 
Jimmie,  who  wanted  nothing  so  much  as  somebody  to  be  sorry 
with,  clasped  Bill  in  his  arms,  and  burst  into  tears,  and  told 
over  and  over  again  how  he  had  gone  to  what  had  been  his 
home,  and  found  only  a  huge  crater  blown  out  by  the  explosion, 
and  how  he  had  gone  about  calling  his  wife  and  babies,  until 
at  last  they  had  brought  him  one  leg  of  his  wife. 

"Wild  Bill"  listened,  until  he  knew  the  story  through,  and 
then  he  said,  "See  here,  old  pal,  let's  you  and  me  quit  this 
town." 

"Quit?"  said  Jimmie,  stupidly. 

"Every  time  I  open  the  front  of  my  face  now,  the  police 
jump  in  it.  Leesville's  a  hell  of  a  town,  I  say.  Let's  get  out." 

"Where'll  we  go?" 

"Anywhere — what's  the  diff?  It's  coming  summer.  Let's 
slam  the  gates." 

Jimmie  was  willing — why  not?  They  went  back  to  the 
lodging-house  where  Bill  lived,  and  he  tied  up  his  worldly 
goods  in  a  gunny-sack — the  greater  part  of  the  load  consisting 
of  a  diary  in  which  he  had  recorded  his  adventures  as  leader 
of  an  unemployed  army  which  had  started  to  march  from  Cali- 
fornia to  Washington,  D.  C.,  some  four  years  previously.  They 

137 


138  JIMMIB  HIGGINS 

took  the  trolley,  and  getting  off  in  the  country,  walked  along  the 
banks  of  the  river,  Jimmie  still  sobbing,  and  Bill  in  the  grip  of 
one  of  his  fearful  coughing  spells.  They  sat  down  beside  the 
stream,  not  so  far  from  where  Jimmie  had  gone  in  swimming 
with  the  Candidate;  he  gave  a  touching  account  of  this  adven- 
ture, but  fell  asleep  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  Bill  wandered  off 
and  begged  some  food  at  a  farm-house,  using  his  cough  as  a 
convenient  lever  for  moving  the  heart  of  the  house-wife.  When 
night  came,  they  sought  the  railroad  and  got  on  board  a  south- 
ward-moving freight ;  so  Jimmie  Higgins  went  back  to  the  hobo 
life,  at  which  he  had  spent  a  considerable  part  of  his  youth. 

But  there  was  a  difference  now;  he  was  no  longer  a  blind 
and  helpless  victim  of  a  false  economic  system,  but  a  revolution- 
ist, fully  class-conscious,  trained  in  a  grim  school.  The  country 
was  going  to  war,  and  Jimmie  was  going  to  war  on  the  country. 
The  two  agitators  got  off  the  train  at  a  mining-village,  and 
got  a  job  as  "surface-men,"  and  proceeded  to  preach  their  gospel 
of  revolt  to  the  workers  in  a  lousy  company  boarding-house. 
When  they  were  found  out,  they  "jumped"  another  freight,  and 
repeated  the  performance  in  another  part  of  the  district. 

The  companies  were  too  vigilant  for  there  to  be  any  chance 
of  a  strike;  but  "Wild  Bill"  whispered  to  the  young  workers 
that  he  knew  a  trick  worth  two  of  that — he  would  teach  them 
the  art  of  "striking  on  the  job" !  This  idea  of  course  had  great 
charm  for  embittered  men ;  enabling  them  to  pay  back  the  boss, 
while  at  the  same  time  continuing  on  his  pay-roll.  Bill  had 
read  whole  books  in  which  the  theory  and  practice  of  "sabotage" 
were  worked  out,  and  he  could  tell  any  sort  of  workman  tricks 
to  make  his  employer  sweat  under  the  collar.  If  you  worked 
in  a  machine-shop,  you  dropped  emery-powder  into  the  bear- 
ings; if  you  worked  on  a  farm,  you  drove  copper  nails  into  the 
fruit-trees,  which  caused  them  to  die;  if  you  packed  apples,  you 
stuck  your  thumb-nail  into  one,  which  made  sure  that  the  whole 
box  would  be  rotten  when  it  arrived ;  if  you  worked  in  a  saw-mill, 
you  drove  a  spike  into  a  log ;  if  you  worked  in  a  restaurant,  you 
served  double  portions  to  ruin  the  boss,  and  spit  in  each  por- 
tion, to  make  sure  the  customer  did  not  derive  any  benefit. 
All  these  things  you  did  in  a  fervour  of  exaltation,  a  mood  of 
frenzied  martyrdom,  because  of  the  blaze  of  hate  which  had  been 
fanned  in  your  soul  by  a  social  system  based  upon  oppression 
and  knavery. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  ROAD          139 


II 

To  Jimmie,  living  the  obscure  and  comparatively  peaceful 
life  of  a  Socialist  propagandist,  the  question  of  "sabotage,  vio- 
lence and  crime''  had  been  a  more  or  less  academic  one,  about 
which  the  comrades  debated  acrimoniously,  and  against  which 
they  voted  by  a  large  majority.  But  now  Jimmie  was  out  among 
the  "wobblies,"  the  "blanket-stiffs" — the  unskilled  workers  who 
had  literally  nothing  but  their  muscle-power  to  sell;  here  he 
was  in  the  front-line  trenches  of  the  class  war.  These  men 
wandered  about  from  one  job  to  another,  at  the  mercy  of  the 
seasons  and  the  fluctuations  of  industry.  They  were  deprived 
of  votes,  and  therefore  of  their  status  as  citizens;  they  were  de- 
prived of  a  chance  to  organise,  and  therefore  of  their  status  as 
human  beings.  They  were  lodged  in  filthy  bunk-houses,  fed 
upon  rotten  food,  and  beaten  or  jailed  at  the  least  word  of 
revolt.  So  they  fought  their  oppressors  with  any  and  every 
weapon  they  could  lay  hands  on. 

In  the  turpentine-country,  in  a  forest,  Jimmie  and  his  pal 
came  to  a  "jungle/'  a  place  where  the  "wobblies"  congregated, 
living  off  the  country.  Here  around  the  camp-fires  Jimmie  met 
the  guerrillas  of  the  class-struggle,  and  learned  the  songs  of 
revolt  which  they  sang — some  of  them  parodies  on  Christian 
hymns  which  would  have  caused  the  orthodox  and  respectable 
to  faint  with  horror.  Here  they  rested  up,  and  exchanged  data 
on  the  progress  of  their  fight,  and  argued  over  tactics,  and 
cussed  the  Socialists  and  the  other  "politicians"  and  "labour- 
fakirs,"  and  sang  the  praises  of  the  "one  big  union/'  and  the 
"mass  strike/'  and  "direct  action"  against  the  masters  of  indus- 
try. They  told  stories  of  their  sufferings  and  their  exploits,  and 
Jimmie  sat  and  listened.  Sometimes  his  eyes  were  wide  with 
consternation,  for  he  had  never  met  men  so  desperate  as  these. 

For  example,  "Strawberry"  Curran — named  for  his  red  hair 
and  innumerable  freckles — an  Irish  boy  with  the  face  of  a  choir- 
singer,  and  eyes  that  must  have  been  taken  straight  out  of  the 
blue  vault  of  heaven.  This  lad  told  about  a  "free  speech  fight" 
in  a  far  Western  city,  and  how  the  chief  of  police  had  led  the 
clubbing,  and  how  they  had  got  back  at  him.  "We  bumped 
him  off  all  right,"  said  "Strawberry" ;  it  was  a  favourite  phrase 
of  his — whenever  anybody  got  in  his  way,  he  "bumped  him  off." 
A.nd  then  "Flathead  Joe,"  who  came  from  the  Indian  country, 


140  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

was  moved  to  emulation,  and  told  how  he  had  put  dynamite 
under  the  supports  of  a  mine-breaker,  and  the  whole  works  had 
slid  down  a  slope  into  a  canyon  a  mile  below.  And  then  a 
lame  fellow,  "Chuck"  Peterson,  told  about  the  imprisonment  of 
two  strike-leaders  in  the  hop-country  of  California,  and  of  the 
epidemic  of  fires  and  destructions  that  had  plagued  that  region 
for  several  years  since. 

All  such  things  these  men  talked  about  quite  casually,  as 
soldiers  would  talk  about  the  events  of  the  last  campaign.  This 
class-war  had  been  going  on  for  ages,  and  had  its  own  ethics 
and  its  own  traditions;  those  who  took  part  in  it  had  their 
heroisms  and  sublimities,  precisely  like  any  other  soldiers.  They 
would  have  been  glad  to  come  into  the  open  and  fight,  but 
the  other  side  had  all  the  guns.  Every  time  the  "wobblies" 
succeeded  in  organising  the  workers  and  calling  a  big  strike, 
all  the  agencies  of  capitalist  repression  were  called  in — they 
were  beaten  by  capitalist  policemen,  shot  by  capitalist  sheriffs, 
starved  and  frozen  in  capitalist  jails,  and  so  their  strike  was 
crushed  and  their  forces  scattered.  After  many  such  experi- 
ences, it  was  inevitable  that  the  hot-headed  ones  should  take  to 
secret  vengeance,  should  become  conspirators  against  capitalist 
society.  And  society,  forgetting  all  the  provocations  it  had 
given,  called  the  "wobblies"  criminals,  and  let  it  go  at  that. 
But  they  were  a  strange  kind  of  criminal,  serving  a  far-off 
dream.  They  had  their  humours  and  their  humanities,  their 
literature  and  music  and  art.  Among  them  were  men  of  educa- 
tion, graduates  of  universities  both  in  America  and  abroad; 
you  might  hear  one  of  the  group  about  these  camp-fires  telling 
about  slave-revolts  in  ancient  Egypt  and  Greece;  or  quoting 
Strindberg  and  Stirner,  or  reciting  a  scene  from  Synge,  or  nar- 
rating how  he  had  astounded  the  family  of  some  lonely  farm- 
house by  playing  Eachmaninoff's  "Prelude"  on  a  badly  out-of- 
tune  piano. 

Also  you  met  among  them  men  who  had  kept  their  gentle- 
ness, their  sweetness  of  soul;  men  of  marvellous  patience,  whose 
dream  of  human  brotherhood  no  persecution,  no  outrage  had 
been  able  to  turn  sour.  They  clung  to  their  vision  of  a  world 
redeemed,  made  over  by  the  outcast  and  lowly ;  a  vision  that  was 
brought  to  the  world  by  a  certain  Jewish  carpenter,  and  has 
haunted  mankind  for  nineteen  hundred  years.  The  difference 
was  that  these  men  knew  precisely  how  they  meant  to  do  it;  they 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  ROAD          141 

had  a  definite  philosophy,  a  definite  programme,  which  they  car- 
ried as  a  gospel  to  the  wage-slaves  of  the  world.  And  they  knew 
that  this  glad  message  would  never  die — not  all  the  jails  and 
clubs  and  machine-guns  in  the  country  could  kill  it,  not  obloquy 
and  ridicule,  not  hunger  and  cold  and  disease.  No !  for  the  work- 
ers were  hearing  and  understanding,  they  were  learning  the  all- 
precious  lesson  of  Solidarity.  They  were  forming  the  "one  big 
union/'  preparing  the  time  when  they  would  take  over  industry 
and  administer  it  through  their  own  workers'  councils,  instead 
of  through  the  medium  of  parliaments  and  legislatures.  That 
was  the  great  idea  upon  which  the  Industrial  Workers  of  the 
World  was  based ;  it  was  this  they  meant  by  "direct  action/'  not 
the  sinister  thing  which  the  capitalist  newspapers  made  out  of 
the  phrase. 

in 

The  country  was  going  into  its  own  war,  which  it  considered 
of  importance,  and  it  called  upon  Jimmie  Higgins  and  the  rest 
of  his  associates  to  register  for  military  service.  In  the  month 
of  June  ten  million  men  came  forward  in  obedience  to  this 
call — but  Jimmie,  needless  to  say,  was  not  among  them.  Jim- 
mie and  his  crowd  thought  it  was  the  greatest  joke  of  the  age. 
If  the  country  wanted  them,  let  it  come  and  get  them!  And 
sure  enough,  the  country  came — a  sheriff  and  some  thirty 
farmers  and  turpentine-workers  sworn  in  as  deputies  and  armed 
with  shot-guns  and  rifles.  Should  their  sons  go  over  seas  to 
be  killed  in  battle,  while  these  desperadoes  continued  to  camp 
out  on  the  country,  living  on  hogs  and  chickens  which  honest 
men  had  worked  to  raise?  They  had  wanted  to  break  up  this 
"jungle"  for  some  time;  now  they  could  do  it  in  the  name  of 
patriotism !  They  surrounded  the  camp,  and  shot  one  man  who 
tried  to  slip  out  in  the  darkness,  and  searched  the  rest  for 
weapons,  and  then  loaded  them  into  half  a  dozen  automobiles 
and  took  them  to  the  nearest  lockup. 

So  here  was  Jimmie,  confronting  a  village  draft-board. 
How  old  was  he?  The  truth  was  that  Jimmie  did  not  know 
definitely,  but  his  guess  was  about  twenty-six.  The  draft-limit 
being  thirty,  he  swore  that  he  was  thirty-two.  And  what  were 
they  going  to  do  about  it?  They  didn't  know  where  he  had 
been  born,  and  they  couldn't  make  him  tell — because  he  didn't 
know  it  himself !  His  face  was  lined  with  many  cares,  and  he 


142  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

had  a  few  grey  hairs  from  that  night  of  horror  when  his  loved 
ones  had  been  wiped  out  of  existence.  These  farmers  knew  how 
to  tell  the  age  of  a  horse,  but  not  how  to  tell  the  age  of  a  man ! 

"We'll  draft  ye  anyhow  I"  vowed  the  chairman  of  the  board, 
who  was  the  local  justice  of  the  peace,  an  old  fellow  with  a  beard 
like  a  billy-goat. 

"All  right,"  said  Jimmie,  "but  you'll  get  nothin'  out  o'  me." 

"What  d'ye  mean?" 

"I  mean  I  wouldn't  fight;  I'm  a  conscientious  objector  to 
war." 

"They'll  shoot  ye !" 

"Shoot  away!" 

"They'll  send  you  to  jail  for  life." 

"What  the  hell  do  I  care?" 

It  was  difficult  to  know  what  to  do  with  a  person  like  that. 
If  they  did  put  him  in  jail,  they  would  only  be  feeding  him  at 
the  expense  of  the  community,  and  that  would  not  help  to  beat 
the  Germans.  They  could  see  from  the  flash  in  his  eyes  that 
he  would  not  be  an  easy  man  to  break.  Local  interest  asserted 
itself,  and  the  old  fellow  with  the  wagging  beard  demanded :  "If 
we  let  ye  go,  will  ye  get  out  o'  this  county  ?" 

"What  the  hell  do  I  care  about  your  old  county?"  replied 
Jimmie. 

So  they  turned  him  loose,  and  "Wild  Bill"  also,  because  it 
was  evident  at  a  glance  that  he  was  not  long  for  this  world 
and  its  wars.  The  two  of  them  broke  into  an  empty  freight-car, 
and  went  thundering  over  the  rails  all  night;  and  lying  in  the 
darkness,  Jimmie  was  awakened  by  a  terrified  cry  from  his  com- 
panion, and  put  out  his  hand  and  laid  it  in  a  mess  that  was  hot 
and  wet. 

"Oh,  my  God !"  gasped  Bill.    "I'm  done  for !" 

"What  is  it?" 

"Hemorrhage." 

The  terrified  Jimmie  did  not  even  know  what  that  was. 
There  was  nothing  he  could  do  but  sit  there,  holding  his  friend's 
trembling  hand  and  listening  to  his  moans.  When  the  train 
stopped,  Jimmie  sprang  out  and  rushed  to  one  of  the  brakemen, 
who  came  with  his  lantern,  and  saw  "Wild  Bill"  lying  in  a  pool 
of  blood,  already  so  far  gone  that  he  could  not  lift  his  head. 
" Jesus!"  exclaimed  the  brakeman.  "He's  a  goner,  all  right." 
The  "goner"  was  trying  to  say  something,  and  Jimmie  leaned 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  EOAD          143 

his  ear  down  to  him.  "Good-bye,  old  pal,"  whispered  Bill. 
That  was  all,  but  it  caused  Jimmie  to  burst  out  sobbing. 

The  engine  whistled.  "What  the  hell  you  stiffs  doin'  on  this 
train?"  demanded  the  brakeman — but  not  so  harshly  as  the 
words  would  indicate.  He  lifted  the  dying  man — no  very  seri- 
ous burden — and  laid  him  on  the  platform  of  the  station. 
"Sorry/'  he  said,  "but  we're  behind  schedule."  He  waved  his 
lantern,  and  the  creaking  cars  began  to  move,  and  the  train 
drew  away,  leaving  Jimmie  sitting  by  the  corpse  of  his  pal. 
The  world  seemed  a  lonely  place  that  long  night. 

In  the  morning  the  station-agent  came,  and  notified  the 
nearest  authorities,  and  in  the  course  of  the  day  came  a  wagon 
to  fetch  the  body.  What  was  the  use  of  Jimmie's  waiting? 
One  "Potter's  field"  was  the  same  as  another,  and  there  would 
be  nothing  inspiring  about  the  funeral.  The  man  who  drove 
the  wagon  looked  at  Jimmie  suspiciously  and  asked  his  age; 
they  were  scarce  of  labour  in  that  country,  he  said — the  rule 
was  "Work  or  fight."  Jimmie  foresaw  another  session  with 
a  draft-board,  so  he  leaped  onto  another  freight  train,  taking 
with  him  as  a  legacy  "Wild  Bill's"  diary  of  the  unemployed 
army. 

IV 

It  was  harvest-time,  and  Jimmie  went  West  to  the  wheat 
country.  It  was  hard  work,  but  the  pay  made  your  eyes  bulge. 
Jimmie  realised  that  war  was  not  such  a  bad  thing — for  the 
ones  that  stayed  at  home !  If  you  didn't  like  one  farmer's  way 
of  speaking  to  you,  or  the  kind  of  biscuits  his  wife  offered  you, 
you  could  move  on  to  the  next,  and  he  would  take  you  in  at 
four  bits  more  per  day.  It  was  the  nearest  approach  to  a  work- 
ingman's  paradise  that  Jimmie  had  ever  encountered.  There 
was  really  only  one  drawback — the  pestiferous  draft-boards 
that  never  stopped  snooping  round.  They  were  forever  hauling 
you  up  and  threatening  and  questioning  you — putting  you 
through  the  same  scene  over  and  over.  Why  couldn't  the  boobs 
give  you  a  card,  showing  that  you  had  been  through  the  mill, 
and  let  that  settle  it?  But  no,  they  wouldn't  give  you  a 
card — they  preferred  to  go  on  jacking  you  up  because  you  had 
no  card  I  It  was  all  a  trick,  thought  Jimmie,  to  wear  him  out 
and  force  him  into  their  army  by  hook  or  by  crook.  But  here 
was  one  time  when  they  would  not  get  away  with  it! 


144  JIMMIB  HIGGINS 

However,  Jimmie  Higgins  was  not  nearly  so  dangerous  a 
character,  now  that  "Wild  Bill"  was  gone  out  of  his  life.  It 
was  really  not  his  nature  to  cherish  hate,  or  to  set  out  deliber- 
ately to  revenge  himself.  Jimmie  was  a  Socialist  in  the  true 
sense  of  the  word — he  felt  himself  a  part  of  society,  and  that 
peace  and  plenty  and  kindness  which  he  desired  for  himself  he 
desired  for  all  mankind.  He  was  not  dreaming  of  a  time  when 
he  could  turn  the  capitalists  out  of  power  and  treat  them  as  they 
were  now  treating  him;  he  meant  the  world  to  be  just  as  good 
a  place  for  the  capitalists  as  for  the  workers — all  would  share 
alike,  and  Jimmie  was  ready  to  wipe  out  the  old  scores  and 
start  fair  any  day.  His  propaganda  regained  its  former  ideal- 
istic hue,  and  it  was  only  when  somebody  tried  to  drag  him  into 
the  slaughter-pen  that  he  developed  teeth  and  claws. 

So  he  became  fairly  happy  again — happier  than  he  had 
thought  he  could  ever  be.  It  was  in  vain  he  told  himself  that 
he  had  nothing  to  live  for;  he  had  the  greatest  thing  in  the 
world  to  live  for,  the  vision  of  a  just  and  sane  and  happy  world. 
So  long  as  anybody  could  be  found  to  listen  while  he  talked 
about  it  and  explained  how  it  might  be  achieved,  life  was  worth 
while,  life  was  real.  It  was  only  now  and  then  that  his  bitter 
heart-ache  returned  to  plague  him — when  he  wakened  in  the 
night  with  his  arms  clasped  about  the  memory  of  the  soft, 
warm,  kindly  body  of  Eleesa  Betooser;  or  when  he  came  to  a 
farm-house  where  there  were  children,  whose  prattle  reminded 
him  of  the  little  fellow  who  had  been  his  prime  reason  for 
wanting  a  just  and  sane  and  happy  world.  Jimmie  found  that 
he  could  not  bear  to  work  in  one  farm-house  where  there  were 
children;  and  when  he  told  the  farmer's  wife  the  reason,  he 
and  the  woman  declared  a  temporary  truce  to  the  class-war, 
and  celebrated  it  with  half  a  large  apple-pie. 


The  Socialists  held  a  National  convention  at  St.  Louis,  and 
drew  up  their  declaration  concerning  the  war.  They  called  it 
the  most  unjustifiable  war  in  history,  "a  crime  against  the 
people  of  the  United  States";  they  called  on  the  workers  of 
the  country  to  oppose  it,  and  pledged  themselves  "to  the  support 
of  all  mass  movements  in  opposition  to  conscription."  This 
was,  of  course,  a  serious  step  to  take  at  such  a  time;  the  com- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  ROAD          145 

rades  realised  it,  and  there  were  solemn  gatherings  to  discuss 
the  referendum,  and  not  a  little  disagreement  as  to  the  wisdom 
of  the  declaration.  In  the  town  of  Hopeland,  near  which  Jimmie 
was  working,  there  was  a  local,  and  he  had  got  himself  trans- 
ferred from  Leesville,  and  paid  up  his  back  dues,  and  had  his 
precious  red  card  stamped  up  to  date.  And  now  he  would  go 
in  and  listen  to  debates,  just  as  exciting  and  just  as  bewilder- 
ing as  those  he  had  heard  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war. 

There  were  some  who  pointed  out  the  precise  meaning  of 
those  words,  "all  mass  movements  in  opposition  to  conscription." 
The  leading  dry-goods  merchant  of  the  town?  who  was  a  Social- 
ist, declared  that  the  words  meant  insurrection  and  mob  violence, 
and  the  resolution  would  be  adjudged  a  call  to  treason.  At  which 
there  leaped  to  his  feet  a  Russian  Jewish  tailor,  Rabin  by  name; 
his  first  name  was  Scholem,  which  means  Peace,  and  he  cried 
in  great  excitement:  "Vot  business  have  ve  Socialists  vit  such 
vords?  Ve  might  leaf  dem  to  de  enemy,  vot?" — You  might 
have  thought  you  were  in  Leesville,  listening  to  Comrade 
Stankewitz.  The  only  difference  was  that  there  were  not  many 
Germans  in  this  town,  and  those  few  confined  their  discussions 
to  Ireland  and  India. 

Jimmie  would  hear  the  arguments,  back  and  forth  and  back 
again,  and  his  mind  would  be  in  greater  confusion  than  ever. 
He  hated  war,  as  much  as  ever;  but  on  the  other  hand,  he  was 
learning  to  hate  the  Germans  too.  The  American  government, 
going  into  war,  had  been  forced  to  assert  itself,  and  the  stores 
and  billboards  were  covered  with  proclamations  and  picture- 
posters,  and  the  newspapers  were  full  of  recitals  of  the  crimes 
which  Germany  had  committed  against  humanity.  Jimmie 
might  refuse  to  read  this  "Wall  Street  dope,"  as  he  called  it, 
but  the  workingmen  with  whom  he  was  associating  read  it, 
and  would  fire  it  at  him  whenever  they  got  into  a  controversy. 
Also  the  daily  events  in  the  news  despatches — the  sinking  of 
hospital-ships  filled  with  wounded,  the  shelling  of  life-boats,  the 
dragging  away  into  slavery  in  coal-mines  of  Belgian  children 
thirteen  and  fourteen  years  old!  How  could  any  man  fail  to 
hate  and  to  fear  a  government  which  committed  such  atrocities  ? 
How  could  he  remain  untroubled  at  the  thought  that  he  might 
be  assisting  such  a  government  to  victory? 

Jimmie  was  honest,  he  was  trying  to  face  the  facts  as  he 
£aw  them;  and  when  he  stopped  to  think,  when  he  remembered 


146  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

the  things  he  had  done  in  company  with  "Wild  Bill"  and 
"Strawberry5'  Curran  and  "Flathead  Joe"  and  "Chuck"  Peter- 
son, he  could  not  deny  that  he  had  been,  however  uninten- 
tionally, helping  the  Kaiser  to  win  the  war.  In  his  arguments 
with  others,  Jimmie  dared  not  tell  all  he  knew  about  such  mat- 
ters; so,  when  he  argued  with  himself,  his  conscience  was 
troubled,  and  doubt  gnawed  at  his  soul.  Suppose  it  were  true, 
as  Comrade  Dr.  Service  had  tried  to  prove  to  him,  that  a  vic- 
tory for  the  Kaiser  would  mean  that  America  would  have  to 
spend  the  next  twenty  or  thirty  years  getting  ready  for  the 
next  war?  Might  it  not  then  be  better  to  forego  revolutionary 
agitation  for  a  while,  until  the  Kaiser  had  been  put  out  of  busi- 
ness? 

There  were  not  a  few  Socialists  who  argued  this  way — 
men  who  had  been  active  in  the  movement  and  had  possessed 
Jimmie's  regard  before  the  war.  Now  they  denounced  the  St. 
Louis  resolution — the  "majority  report"  as  it  was  called.  When 
this  report  was  carried  in  referendum  by  a  vote  of  something 
like  eight  to  one,  these  comrades  withdrew  from  the  party,  and 
some  of  them  bitterly  attacked  their  former  friends.  Such 
utterances  were  taken  up  by  the  capitalist  press ;  and  this  made 
Jimmie  Higgins  indignant.  A  fine  lot  of  Socialists,  to  quit  the 
ship  in  the  hour  of  peril !  Renegades,  Jimmie  called  them,  and 
compared  them  with  Judas  Iscariot  and  Benedict  Arnold  and 
such  like  celebrities  of  past  ages.  They,  being  exactly,  the  same 
sort  of  folks  as  Jimmie,  answered  by  calling  Jimmie  a  pro- 
German  and  a  traitor ;  which  did  not  make  it  easier  to  persuade 
Jimmie  to  listen  to  their  arguments.  So  both  sides  became 
blinded  with  anger,  forgetting  about  the  facts  in  the  case,  and 
thinking  only  of  punishing  a  hated  antagonist. 


VI 

All  over  the  country  now  men  were  sending  their  sons  to 
the  training-camps,  and  putting  their  money  into  "liberty- 
bonds."  So  they  were  in  no  mood  to  listen  to  argument — they 
would  fly  into  a  rage  at  the  least  hint  that  the  cause  in  which 
they  were  making  sacrifices  was  not  a  perfectly  just  and  right- 
eous cause.  There  was  an  organisation  called  the  "People's 
Council  for  Peace  and  Democracy,"  which  attempted  to  hold 
a  national  convention;  the  gathering  was  broken  up  by  mobs, 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  ROAD          147 

and  the  delegates  went  wandering  over  the  country,  trying  in 
vain  to  get  together.  The  mayor  of  Chicago  gave  them  permis- 
sion to  meet  in  that  city,  but  the  governor  of  the  state  sent 
troops  to  prevent!  You  see,  the  people  of  the  country  had 
learned  all  about  the  organization  for  which  Jerry  Coleman  had 
been  working — "Labour's  National  Peace  Council";  and  here 
was  another  organization,  bearing  practically  the  same  name, 
and  carrying  on  an  agitation  which  seemed  the  same  to  the 
average  man.  The  distinction  between  hired  treason  and  super- 
idealism  was  far  too  subtle  for  the  people  to  draw  in  a  time  of 
such  peril. 

It  was  becoming  more  and  more  the  fashion  to  arrest  Social- 
ists and  to  suppress  their  papers;  the  government  authorities 
in  many  places  declared  the  "majority  report"  unmailable,  and 
indicted  state  and  national  secretaries  for  having  sent  it  out 
in  the  ordinary  routine  of  their  business.  Jimmie  received  a 
letter  from  Comrade  Meissner  in  Leesville,  telling  him  that 
Comrade  "Jack"  Smith  had  been  given  two  years  in  the  peni- 
tentiary for  his  speech  in  the  Opera-house,  and  the  other  would- 
be  speakers  had  been  fined  five  hundred  dollars  each.  Several 
issues  of  the  "Worker"  had  been  barred  from  the  mails,  and 
now  the  police  had  raided  the  offices  and  forced  the  suspension 
of  the  publication.  All  over  the  country  that  sort  of  thing 
was  happening,  so  now  if  you  argued  with  Jimmie  in  favour  of 
the  war,  his  answer  was  that  America  was  more  Prussian  than 
Prussia,  and  what  was  the  use  of  fighting  for  Democracy  abroad, 
if  you  had  to  sacrifice  every  particle  of  Democracy  at  home 
in  order  to  win  the  fight? 

Jimmie  really  believed  this — he  believed  it  with  most  des- 
perate and  passionate  intensity.  He  looked  forward  to  a  war 
won  for  the  benefit  of  oppression  at  home ;  he  foresaw  the  system 
of  militarism  and  suppression  riveted  forever  on  the  people  of 
America.  Jimmie  would  admit  that  the  President  himself 
might  be  sincere  in  the  fine  words  he  used  about  democracy; 
but  the  great  Wall  Street  interests  which  had  run  the  country 
for  so  many  decades — they  had  their  secret  purposes,  for  which 
the  war-frenzy  served  as  a  convenient  cloak.  They  were  going 
to  make  universal  military  service  the  rule  in  America;  they 
were  going  to  see  to  it  that  every  school-child  learned  the  mili- 
tary lessons  of  obedience  and  subordination.  Also  they  were 
going  to  put  the  radical  papers  out  of  business  and  put  a  stop 


148  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

to  all  radical  propaganda.  Those  Socialists  who  had  been 
trapped  into  supporting  the  President's  war-programme  would 
wake  up  some  morning  with  a  fearful  dark-brown  taste  in  their 
mouths ! 

No,  said  Jimmie  Higgins,  the  way  to  fight  war  was  to  resist 
the  subterfuges,  however  cunning  and  plausible,  by  which  men 
sought  to  persuade  you  to  support  war.  The  way  to  fight  war- 
was  the  way  of  the  Kussians.  The  propaganda  of  proletarian 
revolt,  the  glorious  example  which  the  Russian  workers  had  set, 
would  do  more  to  break  down  the  power  of  the  Kaiser  than  all 
the  guns  and  shells  in  the  world.  But  the  militarists  did  not 
want  it  broken  that  way — Jimmie  suspected  that  many  of  them 
would  rather  have  the  war  won  by  the  Kaiser  than  have  it  won 
by  the  Socialists.  The  governments  refused  to  give  passports 
to  Socialists  who  wanted  to  meet  in  some  neutral  country  and 
work  out  the  basis  of  a  settlement  upon  which  all  the  peoples 
of  the  world  might  get  together;  and  Jimmie  took  the  banning 
of  this  Socialist  conference  as  the  supreme  crime  of  world- 
capitalism,  it  was  evidence  that  world-capitalism  knew  its  true 
enemy,  and  meant  to  use  the  war  as  an  excuse  to  hold  that 
enemy  down. 


vn 

Day  by  day  Jimmie  was  coming  to  place  more  of  his  hopes 
in  Eussia.  His  little  friend  Rabin,  the  tailor,  took  a  Russian 
paper  published  in  New  York,  the  "Novy  Mir,"  and  would 
translate  its  news  and  editorials.  Local  Hopeland,  thus  in- 
spired, voted  a  message  of  fraternal  sympathy  to  the  Russian 
workers.  In  Petrograd  and  Moscow  there  was  going  on,  it 
appeared,  a  struggle  between  the  pro-ally  Socialists  and  the 
Internationalists,  the  true,  out-and-out,  middle-of-the-road, 
thick-and-thin  proletarians.  The  former  were  called  Menshe- 
viki,  the  latter  were  called  Bolsheviki,  and  of  course  Jimmie 
was  all  for  the  latter.  Did  he  not  know  the  "stool-pigeon 
Socialists"  at  home,  who  were  letting  themselves  be  used  by 
capitalism  ? 

The  big  issues  were  two — first,  the  land,  which  the  peasants 
wanted  to  take  from  the  landlords;  and  second,  the  foreign 
debt.  The  Russian  Tsar  had  borrowed  four  billion  dollars  from 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  ROAD          149 

France  and  a  billion  or  two  from  England,  to  be  used  in  en- 
slaving the  Eussian  workers  and  driving  several  millions  of 
them  to  death  on  the  battle-field.  Now  should  the  Eussian 
workers  consider  themselves  bound  by  this  debt?  When  any- 
body asked  Jimmie  Higgins  that  question,  he  responded  with 
a  thunderous  No,  and  he  regarded  as  hirelings  or  dupes  of 
Wall  Street  all  those  Socialists  who  supported  Kerensky  in 
Russia. 

When  the  American  government,  wishing  to  appeal  to  the 
Russian  people  for  loyalty  in  the  war,  sent  over  a  commission  to 
them,  and  placed  at  its  head  one  of  the  most  notorious  corpora- 
tion lawyers  in  America,  a  man  whose  life,  the  Jimmies  said, 
had  been  sold  to  service  in  the  anti-liberal  cause,  Jimmie  Hig- 
gins' shrill  voice  became  a  yell  of  ridicule  and  rage.  Of  course 
Jimmie's  organisation  saw  to  it  that  the  Bolsheviki  were  in- 
formed in  advance  as  to  the  character  of  this  commission — 
something  which  was  unnecessary,  as  it  happened,  because  im- 
mediately after  the  overthrow  of  the  Tsar  there  had  begun  a 
pilgrimage  of  Russian  Socialists  from  New  York  and  San 
Francisco,  men  who  had  seen  the  seamy  side  of  American  capi- 
talism in  the  slums  of  our  great  cities,  and  who  lost  no  time  in 
providing  the  Eussian  radicals  with  full  information  concerning 
Wall  Street! 

It  chanced  that  in  San  Francisco  a  well-known  labour  leader 
had  been  charged  with  planting  a  bomb  to  break  up  a  "pre- 
paredness" parade.  He  had  been  convicted  upon  what  was 
proven  to  be  perjured  testimony,  and  the  labour  unions  of  the 
country  had  been  conducting  a  campaign  to  save  his  life — 
which  campaign  the  capitalist  newspapers  had  been  carefully 
overlooking,  according  to  their  invariable  custom.  But  now  the 
returned  exiles  in  Petrograd  took  up  the  matter,  and  organised 
a  parade  to  the  American  embassy,  with  a  demand  for  the  free- 
ing of  this  "Muni."  The  report,  of  course,  came  back  to 
America — to  the  immense  bewilderment  of  the  American  people, 
who  had  never  heard  of  this  "Muni"  before.  To  Jimmie  Hig- 
gins it  seemed  just  the  funniest  joke  on  earth  that  a  big  labour- 
struggle  should  be  on  in  San  Francisco,  and  Americans  should 
get  their  first  news  about  it  from  Petrograd  !  Look !  he  would 
cry — how  much  real  democracy  there  is  in  America,  how  much 
care  for  the  working-classes ! 

So  all  that  summer  and  fall,  while  Jimmie  Higgins  slaved 


150  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

in  the  fields,  getting  in  his  country's  wheat-crop,  and  then  his 
country's  corn  crop,  there  was  a  song  of  joy  and  awakening  ex- 
citement in  his  soul.  Far  over  the  seas  men  of  his  own  kind 
were  getting  the  reins  of  power  into  their  hands,  for  the 
first  time  in  the  history  of  the  world.  It  could  not  be  long 
before  here  in  America  the  workers  would  learn  this  wonderful 
lesson,  would  thrill  to  the  idea  that  freedom  and  plenty  might 
really  be  their  portion ! 


CHAPTER  XV 

JIMMIE  HIQGINS   TURNS  BOLSHEVIK 


"117TNTER  was  coming,  and  the  farm-workers  moved  to  the 
*  *  cities ;  but  this  year  they  did  not  go  as  bums  and  out-o'- 
works — they  went,  each  man  a  little  king.  Jimmie  wandered 
into  the  city  of  Iron  ton,  and  got  himself  a  job  in  a  big  auto- 
mobile shop  at  eight  dollars  a  day,  and  set  to  work  agitating 
for  ten  dollars.  It  was  not  that  he  had  any  need  of  the  extra 
two  dollars,  of  course,  but  merely  because  his  first  principle  in 
life  was  to  make  trouble  for  the  profit-system.  The  capitalist 
papers  of  this  middle-Western  metropolis  were  furiously  de- 
nouncing workingmen  who  struck  "against  their  country"  in 
war-time;  Jimmie,  on  the  other  hand,  denounced  those  who 
used  "country"  as  camouflage  for  "boss,"  and  made  the  war  a 
pretext  to  deprive  labour  of  its  most  precious  right. 

There  was  a  Socialist  local  in  Ironton,  still  active  and  deter- 
mined, in  spite  of  the  fact  that  its  office  had  been  raided  by 
the  police,  and  most  of  the  party's  papers  and  magazines  barred 
from  the  mails.  You  could  always  get  leaflets  printed,  how- 
ever; and  if  you  could  no  longer  denounce  the  war  directly,  you 
could  jeer  at  England's  exhibition  of  "democracy"  in  Ireland, 
you  could  point  to  the  profits  of  the  profiteers,  and  demand  con- 
scription of  wealth  along  with  conscription  of  manhood.  Some 
American  Socialists  became  almost  as  subtle  as  that  German 
rebel  of  pre-war  days,  who,  desiring  to  lampoon  the  Kaiser,  wrote 
an  account  of  the  life  of  the  Eoman  emperor  Agricola,  reciting 
his  vanities  and  insane  extravagances. 

Late  in  the  fall  came  an  event  which  should  have  troubled 
Jimmie  Higgins  more  deeply  than  it  did.  Along  the  Izonzo 
river  the  Italian  armies  were  facing  the  Austrians,  their  heredi- 
tary enemies;  they  were  at  the  end  of  a  long,  exhaustive,  and 

151 


152  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

for  the  most  part  unsuccessful  campaign,  and  the  Italian  Social- 
ists at  home  were  carrying  on  precisely  such  a  warfare  against 
their  own  government  as  Jimmie  Higgins  was  carrying  on  in 
America.  They  were  helped  by  the  Catholic  intriguers,  who 
hated  the  Italian  government  because  it  had  destroyed  the  tem- 
poral power  of  the  Pope;  they  were  helped  by  the  subtle  and 
persistent  efforts  of  Austrian  agents  in  their  country,  who  spread 
rumours  among  Italian  troops  of  the  friendly  intentions  of  the 
Austrians,  and  of  the  imminence  of  a  truce.  These  agents  went 
so  far  as  to  fake  copies  of  the  leading  Italian  newspapers,  with 
accounts  of  starvation  and  riots  in  the  home-cities,  and  the 
shooting  down  of  women  and  children.  These  papers  were 
given  out  in  the  Italian  trenches,  before  a  certain  mountain- 
sector  where  the  Austrian  troops  had  been  fraternising  with  the 
Italians;  and  then,  during  the  night,  the  Austrian  troops  were 
withdrawn,  and  picked  German  "shock-troops"  substituted,  which 
attacked  at  dawn  and  drove  through  the  Italian  lines,  sweeping 
back  the  army  along  a  hundred  mile  front,  capturing  some 
quarter  of  a  million  prisoners  and  a  couple  of  thousand  cannon — 
practically  all  the  Italians  had. 

That  Jimmie  Higgins  did  not  pay  more  attention  to  this 
terrifying  incident  was  in  part  because  he  read  it  in  the  capi- 
talist papers  and  did  not  believe  it ;  but  mainly  because  his  whole 
attention  just  now  was  centred  on  Eussia,  where  the  prole- 
tariat was  about  to  make  its  bid  for  power.  Now  you  would 
see  how  wars  were  to  be  ended  and  peace  restored  to  a  distracted 
world ! 

The  moderate  Socialist  government  of  Kerensky  was  plead- 
ing with  the  capitalist  masters  of  the  Allied  nations  for  a 
statement  of  their  peace  terms,  so  that  the  workers  of  Eussia 
might  know  what  they  were  fighting  for.  The  Eussian  workers 
wanted  a  declaration  in  favour  of  no  annexations,  no  indemni- 
ties, and  disarmament;  on  such  terms  they  would  help  fight 
the  war,  in  spite  of  all  the  starvation  and  suffering  in  distracted 
Eussia.  But  the  Allied  statesmen  would  not  make  any  such 
declaration,  and  the  Eussian  workers,  backed  by  all  the  Social- 
ists of  the  world,  declared  that  the  reason  was  that  these  Allied 
statesmen  were  waging  an  imperialist  war — they  did  not  intend 
to  stop  fighting  until  they  had  taken  vast  territories  from  the 
German  powers,  and  exacted  a  ransom  that  would  cripple  Ger- 
many for  a  generation.  The  Eussian  workers  refused  point- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TURNS  BOLSHEVIK         153 

blank  to  fight  for  such  aims,  and  so  in  November  came  the 
second  revolution,  the  uprising  of  the  Bolsheviki. 

Almost  their  first  action  when  they  took  possession  of  the 
palaces  and  government  archives  was  to  publish  to  the  world 
the  secret  treaties  which  the  rulers  of  England,  France  and 
Italy  had  made  with  Russia.  These  treaties  formed  a  com- 
plete justification  for  the  attitude  of  the  Russian  revolutionists — 
they  showed  that  the  Allied  imperialists  had  planned  most 
shameless  plundering ;  England  was  to  have  the  German  colonies 
and  Mesopotamia,  France  was  to  have  German  territory  to  the 
Rhine,  Italy  was  to  have  the  Adriatic  coast,  and  to  divide 
Palestine  and  Syria  with  England  and  France. 

And  here  was  the  most  significant  fact  to  Jimmie  Higgins — 
these  enormously  important  revelations,  the  most  important 
since  the  beginning  of  the  war,  were  practically  suppressed  by 
the  capitalist  newspapers  of  America!  First  these  papers 
printed  a  brief  item — the  Bolsheviki  had  given  out  what  they 
claimed  were  secret  treaties,  but  the  genuineness  of  these  docu- 
ments was  gravely  doubted.  Then  they  published  evasive  and 
lying  denials  from  the  British,  French  and  Italian  diplomats; 
and  then  they  shut  up !  Not  another  word  did  you  read  about 
those  secret  treaties;  except  for  one  or  two  American  news- 
papers with  traditions  of  honour,  the  full  text  of  those  treaties 
was  given  in  the  Socialist  press  alone !  And  now,  cried  Jimmie 
Higgins,  to  the  workingmen  in  his  shop,  what  do  you  think  of 
those  wonderful  Allies  of  ours?  What  do  you  think  of  those 
Wall  Street  newspapers  of  ours?  Could  any  workingman  who 
had  such  facts  put  before  him  fail  to  realise  that  Jimmie  Hig- 
gins had  a  case,  and  a  most  important  work  in  the  world  to  do, 
in  spite  of  all  his  unreason  and  his  narrowness? 


II 

Jimmie  was  now  in  the  seventh  heaven,  walking  as  if  on 
air.  A  proletarian  government  at  last,  the  first  in  history !  A 
government  of  workingmen  like  himself,  running  their  own 
affairs,  without  the  help  of  politicians  or  bankers!  Coming 
out  before  the  world  and  telling  the  truth  about  matters  of 
state,  in  language  that  common  men  could  understand!  Dis- 
banding the  armies,  and  sending  the  workers  home!  Turning 
the  masters  out  of  the  factories,  and  putting  shop-committees 


154  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

in  control!  Taking  away  the  advertising  from  the  crooked 
capitalist  papers,  and  so  putting  them  out  of  business!  Our 
little  friend  would  rush  to  the  corner  every  morning  to  get  the 
paper  and  see  what  had  happened  next ;  he  would  go  down  the 
street,  so  excited  that  he  forgot  his  breakfast. 

Jimmie  had  made  a  new  acquaintance  in  Ironton ;  the  little 
tailor,  Rabin,  whose  name  was  Scholem,  which  means  Peace, 
had  given  him  a  letter  to  his  brother,  whose  name  was  Deror, 
which  means  Freedom.  Each  afternoon  when  the  automobile 
factory  let  out,  Jimmie  would  get  an  evening  paper  and  take  it 
to  Deror's  tailor-shop,  and  the  two  would  spell  out  the  news. 
By  God,  look  at  this !  Did  you  ever  hear  the  like  ?  The  man 
in  charge  of  the  Bolshevik  foreign  office  was  a  Marxian  Jew 
who  had  helped  edit  the  "Novy  Mir,"  the  revolutionary  paper 
which  Scholem  had  read  to  Jimmie !  He  had  been  a  waiter  in 
the  Waldorf-Astoria  hotel,  and  now  he  was  giving  out  the 
secret  treaties,  and  issuing  propaganda  manifestos  to  the  inter- 
national proletariat! 

The  American  capitalist  press  was  full  of  lies  about  the  new 
revolution,  of  course;  but  Jimmie  could  read  pretty  well  be- 
tween the  lines  of  the  capitalist  press,  and  the  few  Socialist 
papers  that  were  still  in  business,  and  which  he  read  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  local,  gave  him  the  rest  of  what  he  wanted. 
To  Jimmie,  of  course,  everything  the  Bolsheviki  did  was  right; 
if  it  wasn't  right,  it  was  a  lie.  The  little  machinist  knew  that 
the  Bolsheviki  had  repudiated  the  four  billion  dollar  debt  which 
the  government  of  the  Tsar  had  contracted  with  the  bankers 
of  France ;  and  Jimmie  knew  perfectly  well  what  was  the  lying 
power  of  four  billion  dollars ! 

The  American  papers  were  shocked  because  the  Russian 
Socialists  were  deserting  the  cause  of  democracy,  and  giving 
Germany  a  chance  to  win  the  war.  The  American  papers  called 
them  German  -agents,  but  Jimmie  did  not  take  any  stock  in 
such  talk  as  this.  Jimmie  was  familiar  with  the  "frame  up/'  as 
it  is  operated  against  the  workers  in  America.  He  saw  that  the 
first  thing  the  Bolshevik  leaders  did  was  to  make  an  appeal 
to  the  revolutionary  workers  of  Germany.  The  Russian  prole- 
tariat had  shown  the  way — now  let  the  German  proletariat  fol- 
low! Literature  was  printed  and  shipped  wholesale  into  Ger- 
many, leaflets  were  dropped  by  aviators  among  the  German 
troops;  and  when  Jimmie  and  Deror  read  that  the  German 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TURNS  BOLSHEVIK         155 

generals  had  protested  to  the  Russians  against  such  practices, 
they  laughed  aloud  with  delight.  Well  might  the  war-lords 
squeal;  they  knew  what  was  coming  to  them!  And  when  in 
January  Jimmie  and  Deror  read  of  the  revolting  of  a  brigade 
of  German  troops,  and  a  strike  of  several  hundred  thousand 
workingmen  throughout  Germany,  they  thought  the  end  was  at 
hand.  The  little  tailor  got  up  in  Local  Ironton  and  made  a 
motion  that  it  take  to  itself  the  name  "Bolshevik" — which 
motion  was  carried  with  a  whoop.  And  these  American  Bol- 
sheviki  went  on  to  consult  with  the  labour-unions,  suggesting 
that  they  should  form  "shop-committees,"  and  prepare  for  the 
taking  over  of  industry  a  la  Russe ! 

in 

But  something  went  suddenly  wrong  with  the  newly  built 
revolutionary  steam-roller.  The  German  military  chiefs  seized 
their  strike-leaders  at  home  and  threw  them  into  jail,  or  shipped 
them  off  to  the  front  trenches  to  be  slaughtered.  By  terrorism, 
shrewdly  mixed  with  cajolery,  they  broke  the  strike,  and  sent 
the  grumbling  slaves  back  to  their  treadmill.  And  then  the 
German  armies  began  to  march  into  Russia ! 

It  was  the  crisis  to  which  Jimmie  Higgins  had  been  looking 
forward  ever  since  the  war  began.  Tolstoi  had  taught  that  if 
one  nation  refused  to  fight,  it  would  be  impossible  for  another 
nation  to  invade  it;  and  while  Jimmie  Higgins  was  no  mystic 
or  religious  non-resistant,  he  agreed  in  this  with  the  great 
Russian.  No  workers  in  an  enemy  army  could  possibly  be 
brought  to  fire  upon  their  peace-proclaiming  brothers ! 

And  here  at  last  was  the  test  of  the  theory;  here  were  Ger- 
man Socialists  ordered  to  march  against  Russian  Socialists — 
ordered  to  fire  upon  the  red  flag!  Would  they  do  what  their 
masters,  the  war-lords,  commanded?  Or  would  they  listen  to 
the  clamorous  appeals  of  the  international  proletariat,  and  turn 
their  guns  against  their  own  officers  ? 

All  the  world  saw  what  happened;  it  saw  the  glorious  revo- 
lutionary machine,  in  which  Jimmie  Higgins  had  put  all  his 
trust,  run  into  a  ditch  and  land  its  passengers  in  the  mud. 
The  German  armies  marched,  and  the  Socialists  in  the  Ger- 
man armies  did  exactly  what  the  non-Socialists  did — they  fired 
upon  the  red  flag,  as  they  would  have  fired  upon  the  flag  of 


156  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

the  Tsar.  They  obeyed  the  orders  of  their  officers,  like  true 
and  loyal  Germans;  they  drove  back  the  Bolshevik!  in  con- 
fusion, taking  their  guns  and  supplies,  and  destroying  their 
cities ;  they  led  off  the  Russian  women  and  children  into  slavery, 
precisely  as  if  they  were  Belgian  or  French  women  and  chil- 
dren, destined  by  the  German  Gott  as  the  legitimate  prey  of 
Kultur.  They  sacked  Riga  and  Reval,  they  overran  all  the 
Eastern  portions  of  Russia — Courland,  Livonia,  Esthonia;  they 
moved  into  the  rich  grain  country  of  Southern  Russia,  the 
Ukraine ;  they  landed  from  their  ships  and  took  Finland,  wiping 
out  the  liberties  of  that  splendid  people.  They  were  at  the  gates 
of  Petrograd,  and  the  Bolshevik  government  was  forced  to 
flee  to  Moscow.  Of  all  which  military  feats  the  German  Social- 
ist papers  spoke  with  stern  pride! 


IV 

Poor  Jimmie  Higgins!  It  was  like  the  blow  of  a  mighty 
fist  in  his  face;  he  was  literally  stunned — it  was  weeks  before 
he  could  grasp  the  full  meaning  of  what  was  happening,  the 
debacle  of  all  his  hopes.  And  it  was  the  same  with  Ironton's 
Bolshevik  local;  all  the  "pep"  was  gone  out  of  its  proceedings. 
To  be  sure,  some  noisy  ones  went  on  shouting  for  revolution 
the  very  next  day — men  who  had  been  talking  formulas  for 
twenty  or  thirty  years,  and  had  no  more  notion  of  a  fact  than 
they  had  of  a  pseudopodium.  But  the  sensible  men  of  the  group 
knew  that  their  "St.  Louis  resolution"  was  being  shot  to  death 
over  there  in  the  trenches  before  Petrograd. 

It  was  interesting  especially  to  see  Rabin.  The  common 
belief  of  Americans  was  that  a  Jew  could  not  be  induced  to 
fight;  they  told  a  story  about  one  who  cried  out  to  his  son, 
asking  why  he  was  letting  another  boy  pummel  him,  and  the 
son  whispered  in  reply,  "Keep  still,  I  got  a  nickel  under  my 
foot!"  All  through  the  war  the  Jewish  Socialists  in  America 
had  been,  next  to  the  Germans,  the  most  ardent  pacifists;  but 
now  here  was  a  social  revolution  managed  by  Jews,  here  was  a 
Russian  government  which  gave  the  Jews  their  rights  for  the 
first  time  in  history!  So  the  little  Jewish  tailor  stood  up  be- 
fore these  American  Bolsheviki,  and  with  tears  running  down 
his  cheeks  declared :  "Comrades,  I  am  already  tru  vit  speeches ; 
I  am  going  into  dis  var !  I  vill  put  myself  vit  de  Polish  Social- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TURNS  BOLSHEVIK         157 

ists,  vit  de  Bohemian  Socialists — I  fight  de  Kaiser  to  de  death ! 
So  vill  fight  every  Jewish  Socialist  in  de  vorld!"  And  this 
was  no  mere  braggadocio — Comrade  Rabin  actually  proceeded 
to  shut  up  his  tailor-shop,  and  went  away  to  join  the  "red 
brigade"  which  was  being  organised  by  the  Jewish  revolutionists 
of  New  York! 

If  the  German  war-lords  had  set  out  deliberately  to  ham- 
string the  American  Socialists,  to  make  it  impossible  for  them 
to  go  on  demanding  peace,  they  could  not  have  acted  differently. 
They  dragged  the  helpless  Bolsheviki  into  a  peace-conference 
at  Brest-Litovsk,  and  forced  them  to  cede  away  all  the  territories 
that  Germany  had  taken,  and  on  top  of  that  to  pay  an  enor- 
mous indemnity.  They  planned  to  compel  the  new  Russian 
government  to  become  a  vassal  to  the  Central  powers,  working 
to  help  them  enslave  the  rest  of  the  world.  The  German  armies 
went  through  the  conquered  territories,  stripping  them  bare, 
robbing  the  peasants  of  every  particle  of  food,  beating  them, 
shooting  them,  burning  their  homes  if  they  resisted.  They  gave 
to  the  world  such  a  demonstration  of  what  a  German  peace 
would  mean,  that  everywhere  free  men  set  their  teeth  and 
gripped  their  hands,  and  swore  to  root  this  infamous  thing  from 
out  civilisation.  Even  Jimmie  Higgins! 


Yes,  even  Jimmie!  He  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would 
work  as  hard  as  ever  he  could,  and  produce  as  many  automo- 
bile-trucks as  he  could.  But  alas,  a  man  cannot  be  hounded 
and  oppressed  all  his  life,  cannot  have  hatred  and  rebellion 
ground  into  the  deeps  of  his  soul,  and  then  forget  it  over-night 
because  of  certain  intellectual  ideas,  certain  new  items  that  he 
reads  in  his  paper.  What  happened  to  Jimmie  was  that  his 
mind  was  literally  torn  in  half ;  he  found  himself,  every  twenty- 
four  hours  of  his  life,  of  two  absolutely  contradictory  and 
diametrically  opposite  points  of  view.  He  would  vow  destruc- 
tion to  the  hated  German  armies ;  and  then  he  would  turn  about 
and  vow  destruction  to  the  men  at  home  who  were  managing  the 
job  of  destroying  the  German  armies ! 

For  these  men  were  Jimmie's  life  long  enemies,  and  were 
no  more  able  to  forget  their  prejudices  over-night  than  was 
Jimmie.  For  example,  the  lying  capitalist  paper  which  Jimmie 


158  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

had  to  read  every  morning !  When  Jimmie  had  read  a  patriotic 
editorial  in  the  "Ironton  Daily  Sun,"  it  had  become  utterly 
impossible  for  him  to  help  win  the  war  that  day!  Or  the 
politicians,  seeking  to  use  the  war-cry  of  democracy  abroad  to 
crush  all  traces  of  democracy  at  home;  to  "get"  the  radicals 
whom  they  hated  and  feared,  and  by  means  of  taxes  on  neces- 
sities and  a  bonded  debt  to  put  the  costs  of  the  war  onto  the 
poor !  Or  the  capitalists,  making  fervid  speeches  about  patriot- 
ism, but  refusing  to  give  up  the  whip-hand  over  their  wage- 
slaves  ! 

Jimmie  Higgins  was  working  in  a  factory,  making  auto- 
mobile-trucks for  the  armies  in  France;  and  the  owners  of  the 
factory  would  not  let  the  men  have  a  union,  and  so  there 
was  a  strike.  The  bosses  made  an  agreement  to  take  every- 
body back  and  permit  a  union,  and  then  proceeded  treacher- 
ously to  violate  the  agreement,  getting  rid  of  the  most  active 
organisers  on  this  or  that  transparent  pretext.  Jimmie  Higgins, 
trying  to  help  with  the  skill  of  his  hands  to  make  the  world 
safe  for  democracy,  was  turned  out  of  his  job  and  left  to  wander 
in  the  streets,  because  a  big  profit-seeking  corporation  did  not 
believe  in  democracy,  and  refused  to  permit  its  workers  any 
voice  in  determining  the  conditions  of  their  labour !  The  Gov- 
ernment was  trying  to  deal  with  emergencies  such  as  this,  to  put 
an  end  to  the  epidemic  of  strikes  which  was  hindering  the  war- 
work  everywhere;  but  the  government  had  not  yet  got  its 
machinery  going,  and  meantime  Jimmie's  little  feeble  sprout 
of  patriotism  got  a  severe  chill. 

Jimmie  got  drunk,  and  wasted  a  part  of  his  money  on  a 
wpman  of  the  street.  Then,  being  ashamed  of  himself,  and  still 
plagued  by  the  memory  of  his  dead  wife  and  babies,  he  straight- 
ened up  and  resolved  to  start  life  anew.  He  found  himself 
thinking  about  Leesville;  it  was  the  only  place  in  the  world 
where  he  had  ever  been  really  happy,  and  now  since  Deror 
Rabin  had  gone  East,  it  was  the  only  place  where  he  had  friends. 
How  were  the  Meissners  making  out?  How  was  Comrade  Mrs. 
Gerrity,  nee  Baskerville?  What  was  Local  Leesville  thinking 
about  Eussia  and  about  the  war  ?  Jimmie  took  a  sudden  resolve 
to  go  and  find  out.  He  priced  a  ticket,  and  found  that  he  had 
enough  money  and  to  spare.  He  would  take  the  journey — and 
take  it  in  state,  as  a  citizen  and  a  war-worker,  not  as  a  hobo 
fn  a  box-car ! 


CHAPTER  XVI 

JIMMIB  HIGGINS  M'EETS  THE  TEMPTER 


\\7HEN  Jimmie  Higgins  stepped  off  the  train  at  Leesville, 
*  *  it  was  a  blustery  morning  in  early  March,  with  snow  still 
on  the  ground  and  flurries  of  it  in  the  air.  In  front  of  the 
station  was  a  public  square,  with  a  number  of  people  gathered, 
and  Jimmie  strolled  over  to  see  what  was  going  on.  What  he 
saw  was  a  score  of  young  men,  some  in  khaki  uniforms,  some  in 
ordinary  trousers  and  sweaters,  being  drilled.  Jimmie,  being 
in  the  mood  of  a  gentleman  of  leisure,  stopped  to  watch  the 
show. 

It  was  the  thing  he  had  been  talking  and  thinking  about 
for  nearly  three  years :  this  monstrous  perversion  of  the  human 
soul  called  Militarism,  this  force  which  seized  hold  of  men  and 
made  them  into  automatons,  moving  machines  which  obeyed 
orders  in  a  mass,  and  went  out  and  did  deeds  of  which  none  of 
them  taken  separately  would  have  been  capable,  even  in  their 
dreams.  Here  was  a  bunch  of  average  nice  Leesville  boys, 
employes  of  the  shops  nearby,  "soda-jerkers"  and  "counter- 
jumpers,^  clerks  who  had  deftly  fitted  shoes  onto  the  feet  of 
pretty  ladies.  Now  they  were  submitting  themselves  to  this 
deforming  discipline,  undergoing  this  devilish  transmogrifica- 
tion! 

Jimmie's  eye  ran  down  the  line:  there  was  a  street-car 
conductor  he  knew,  there  was  a  machinist  from  the  Empire, 
also  there  was  a  son  of  Ashton  Chalmers,  president  of  the  First 
National  Bank  of  Leesville.  And  suddenly  Jimmie  gave  a 
start.  Impossible!  It  could  not  be!  But — it  was!  Young 
Emil  Forster !  Emil  a  Socialist,  Emil  a  German,  Emil  a  student 
and  thinker,  who  had  penetrated  the  hypocritical  disguises  of 
this  capitalist  war,  and  had  fearlessly  proclaimed  the  truth 
every  Friday  night  at  the  local — here  he  was  with  a  suit  of 

159 


160  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

khaki  on  his  rather  frail  figure,  a  rifle  in  his  hand  and  a  look 
of  grim  resolve  on  his  face,  going  through  the  evolutions  of 
squad-drill:  left,  right,  left,  right,  left,  right — column  left, 
march — one,  two,  three,  four — left,  right,  left,  right, — squad 
right  about,  march — left,  right,  left,  right — squad  left  oblique, 
march — and  so  on.  If  you  are  to  form  any  picture  of  the 
scene  you  must  imagine  the  swift  tramp  of  many  feet  in  unison 
— thump,  thump,  thump,  thump,  thump,  thump;  you  must 
imagine  the  marchers,  with  their  solemnly  set  faces,  and  the 
orders  thundered  out  by  a  red-faced  young  man  of  desperate 
aspect,  the  word  march  coming  each  time  with  a  punch  that 
hit  you  over  the  heart.  This  red-faced  young  man  was  the 
very  incarnation  of  the  military  despot  as  Jimmie  had  pic- 
tured him;  watching  with  hawk-like  eye,  scolding,  pounding, 
driving,  with  no  slightest  regard  for  the  feelings  of  the  slaves 
he  commanded,  or  for  any  of  the  decencies  of  civilised  inter- 
course. 

"Hold  those  half  steps,  Casey!  Keep  your  eye  on  the  end 
man — you'll  have  him  splitting  his  legs  if  you  don't  wait  for 
him.  Column  left,  march — one,  two,  three,  four — now  you're 
all  right — off  with  you — that's  better!  Put  a  little  pep  into 
your  feet,  Chalmers,  for  God's  sake — if  you  go  marching  into 
Berlin  like  that  they'll  think  it's  the  hospital  squad!  By  the 
right  flank,  column  fours,  march — watch  your  distance  there, 
end  man !  How  many  times  do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  that  ?" 
— And  so  on  and  on — tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  tramp — while  a 
small  boy  standing  beside  Jimmie,  evidently  a  truant  from 
school,  chanted  over  and  over:  "Left — left — the  soldier  got 
drunk  and  he  packed  up  his  trunk  and  he  left — left !  And  do 
you  not  think  he  was  right — right?" 

ii 

ISTow  if  you  have  ever  stood  about  and  watched  outdoor 
exercise  or  games,  on  a  day  in  March  with  snow  on  the  ground 
and  a  keen  wind  blowing,  you  know  how  it  is — you  have  to 
stamp  your  feet  to  keep  warm;  and  if  in  your  neighbourhood 
there  are  twenty  left  feet  smiting  the  ground  in  unison,  and 
then  twenty  right  feet  smiting  the  ground  in  unison,  it  is 
absolutely  inevitable  that  your  stamping  should  keep  time  to  the 
smiting;  also  the  rhythm  of  your  stamping  will  be  communi- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  TEMPTER      161 

cated  upwards  into  your  body — your  thoughts  will  keep  time 
with  the  marching  squad — tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  tramp — left, 
right,  left,  right!  The  psychologists  tell  us  that  one  who  goes 
through  the  actions  appropriate  to  an  emotion  will  begin  to  feel 
that  emotion ;  and  so  it  was  with  Jimmie  Higgins.  By  a  process 
so  subtle  that  he  never  suspected  it  Jimmie  was  being  made  into 
a  militarist!  Jimmie's  hands  were  clenched,  Jimmie's  jaw  was 
set,  Jimmie's  feet  were  tramping,  tramping  on  the  road  to  Ber- 
lin, to  teach  the  Prussian  war-lords  what  it  meant  to  defy  the 
free  men  of  a  great  republic ! 

But  then  something  would  happen  to  blast  these  budding 
excitements  in  Jimmie's  soul.  The  red-faced  fellow  would  break 
into  the  rhythm  of  the  march.  "For  the  love  of  Mike,  Pete 
Casey,  can't  you  remember  those  half -steps  ?  Squad,  halt !  Now 
look  here,  what's  the  matter  with  you?  Step  out  and  let  me 
show  you  once  more."  And  poor  Casey,  a  meek-faced  little  man 
with  sloping  shoulders,  who  had  been  running  the  elevator  in 
the  Chalmers  Building  up  to  a  week  ago,  would  patiently  prac- 
tise marching  without  moving,  so  that  the  rest  of  the  line  could 
wheel  round  him  as  a  pivot.  The  petty  tyrant  who  scolded  at 
him  was  determined  to  have  his  own  way ;  and  Jimmie,  who  had 
had  to  do  with  many  such  tyrants  in  his  long  years  of  industrial 
servitude,  was  glad  when  this  particular  one  got  mixed  up  in 
his  orders,  and  ran  his  squad  into  the  fountain  in  the  middle 
of  the  drill-ground,  and  some  of  them  marched  over  the  para- 
pet, sliding  down  into  the  ice-covered  basin  below.  The  spec- 
tators roared,  and  so  did  the  marchers,  and  the  red-faced  young 
man  had  to  join  in,  and  to  come  down  off  his  high  horse. 

The  conflict  of  impulses  went  on  in  Jimmie's  soul.  These 
marching  men  were  the  "boobs"  at  whom  he  had  been  mocking 
for  something  over  two  years.  They  did  not  look  like  "boobs," 
he  had  to  admit;  on  the  contrary,  they  looked  quite  capable  of 
deciding  what  they  wanted  to  do.  And  they  had  decided;  they 
had  quit  their  jobs  several  weeks  in  advance  of  the  time  when 
they  would  be  called  for  the  draft,  and  had  set  to  work  to  learn 
the  rudiments  of  the  military  art,  in  the  hope  of  thus  getting 
more  quickly  to  France.  Among  them  were  bankers  and  mer- 
chants and  real  estate  dealers,  side  by  side  with  soda-jerkers 
and  counter-jumpers  and  elevator-men — and  all  taking  their 
orders  from  an  ex-blacksmith's  helper,  who  had  run  away  to 
fight  in  the  Philippines. 


162  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Jimmie  got  this  last  bit  of  information  from  a  fellow  who 
stood  watching;  so  he  realised  that  here  was  the  thing  he 
had  been  reading  about  in  the  papers — the  new  army  of  the 
people,  that  was  going  forth  to  make  the  world  safe  for  democ- 
racy! Jimmie  had  read  such  words,  and  thought  them  just 
camouflage,  a  trap  for  the  "boobs."  But  here,  a  sight  of  won- 
der before  his  eyes,  a  son  of  Ashton  Chalmers,  president  of  the 
First  National  Bank  of  Leesville,  being  ordered  about  and 
hauled  over  the  coals  by  an  ex-blacksmith's  helper,  who  happened 
to  know  how  to  shout  with  the  accents  of  a  pile-driver :  "Shoul- 
der humps!  Order  humps!  Present  humps!" 

The  squad  spread  itself  out  for  exercise — grasping  their 
heavy  rifles  and  swinging  them  this  way  and  that  with  desperate 
violence.  "Swing  over  head  and  return,  ready,  exercise — one, 
two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight — eight,  seven,  six,  five, 
four,  three,  two,  one/'  It  was  no  joke  making  those  swings 
in  such  quick  time;  the  poor  little  elevator-man  Casey  was  left 
hopelessly  behind,  he  could  only  make  half  the  swing,  and  then 
couldn't  get  bacE  to  place  on  the  count;  he  would  look  about, 
grinning  sheepishly,  and  then  fall  into  time  and  try  again. 
Everybody's  face  was  set,  everybody's  breath  was  coming  harder 
and  harder,  everybody's  complexion  was  becoming  apoplectic. 

"Swing  to  the  right!"  shouted  the  blacksmith-tyrant. 
"Keady,  exercise — one,  two" — and  so  on.  And  then  he  would 
yell:  "No,  Chalmers,  don't  punch  out  with  your  arms — swing 
up  your  gun !  Swing  it  up  from  the  bottom !  That's  the  way ! 
Poke  'em!  Poke  'em!  Put  the  punch  into  'em!"  And  over 
Jimmie  stole  a  cold  horror.  There  was  nothing  on  the  end  of 
those  guns  but  a  little  black  hole,  but  Jimmie  knew  what  was 
supposed  to  be  there — what  would  some  day  be  there;  the  ex- 
ercise meant  that  these  affable  young  Leesville  store-clerks 
were  getting  ready  to  drive  a  sharp,  gleaming  blade  into  the 
bowels  of  human  beings!  "Poke  'em!  Poke  'em!"  shouted 
the  ex-blacksmith,  and  with  desperate  force  they  swung  the 
heavy  rifles,  throwing  their  bodies  to  one  side  and  leaping  out 
with  one  foot.  Horrible !  Horrible ! 

HI 

Man  is  a  gregarious  animal,  and  it  is  a  fundamental  law 
of  his  being  that  when  a  group  of  his  fellows  are  doing  a  cer- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  TEMPTER      163 

tain  thing,  and  doing  it  with  energy  and  fervor,  any  one  who 
does  not  do  it,  who  does  not  share  the  mood  of  energy  and  fer- 
vour, shall  be  the  object  of  ridicule  and  anger,  shall  feel  within 
his  own  heart  confusion  and  distress.  This  is  true,  even  if  the 
group  is  doing  nothing  more  worth-while  than  making  itself 
drunk.  How  much  more  shall  it  be  when  it  is  engaged  in  mak- 
ing the  world  safe  for  democracy! 

The  only  way  the  man  can  save  himself  is  by  holding  before 
his  mind  the  belief  that  he  is  right,  and  that  some  day  this  will 
be  recognised;  in  other  words,  by  appealing  to  some  other 
group  of  men,  who  in  some  future  time  will  applaud  him. 
If  he  is  sure  of  this  future  applause,  he  can  manage  to  stand 
the  jeers  for  the  moment.  But  how  when  he  begins  to  doubt — 
when  his  mind  is  haunted  by  the  possibility  that  the  men  of  the 
future  may  agree  with  those  of  the  present,  who  are  learning 
to  march  in  unison,  and  to  poke  bayonets  into  the  bodies  of 
Huns? 

One  of  the  things  which  brought  this  destructive  doubt  to 
Jimmie's  soul  was  the  sight  of  Emil  Forster,  learning  to  march 
and  to  poke.  Emil  had  been  one  of  his  heroes,  Emil  knew  a 
hundred  times  as  much  as  he — and  Emil  was  going  to  the  war ! 
The  squad  marched  away  to  the  city  hall  across  the  square, 
and  deposited  its  rifles  in  a  room  in  the  basement,  and  then 
Emil  came  out,  and  Jimmie  went  up  to  him.  The  young  car- 
pet-designer of  course  was  delighted  to  meet  his  old  friend, 
and  asked  him  to  go  to  lunch.  As  they  walked  along  the  street 
together  Jimmie  asked  what  it  meant,  and  Emil  answered : 
"It  meane  that  I  have  made  up  my  mind." 

"You're  going  to  fight  the  German  people  ?" 

"Strange  as  you'll  think  it,  I'm  going  to  fight  them  for: 
their  own  good.  Bebel  wrote  in  his  memoirs  that  the  way  to 
get  democratic  progress  in  autocratic  countries  is  through 
military  defeat;  and  it  seems  up  to  America  to  provide  this  de- 
feat for  Germany." 

"But — you  were  preaching  just  the  opposite!" 

"I  know;  it  makes  me  feel  foolish  sometimes.  But  things 
have  changed,  and  there's  no  sense  shutting  your  eyes  to  facts." 

Jimmie  waited. 

"Eussia,  more  especially,"  continued  Emil,  answering  the 
unspoken  question.  "What's  the  use  of  getting  Socialism,  if 
you're  just  throwing  yourself  down  for  a  military  machine  to 


164  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

run  over  you?  You're  playing  the  fool,  that's  all — and  you 
have  to  see  it.  What  hope  is  there  for  Russia  now?" 

"There's  the  German  Socialists/' 

"Well,  they  just  didn't  have  the  power,  that's  all.  What's 
more,  we  have  to  face  the  fact  that  a  lot  of  them  aren't  really 
revolutionists — they're  politicians,  and  haven't  dared  to  stand 
out  against  the  crowd.  Anyhow,  whatever  the  reason  is,  they 
didn't  save  their  own  country,  and  they  didn't  save  Russia. 
They  certainly  can't  expect  us  to  give  them  a  third  chance — it 
costs  too  much." 

"But  then,"  argued  Jimmie,  "ain't  we  doin'  just  what  we 
blame  them  for  doin' — turnin'  patriots,  supportin'  a  capitalist 
government  ?" 

"When  you're  supporting  a  government,"  replied  Emil,  "it 
makes  a  lot  of  difference  what  use  it's  making  of  your  support. 
We  all  know  the  faults  of  our  government,  but  we  know  too 
that  the  people  can  change  it  when  enough  of  them  get  ready, 
and  that  makes  a  real  difference.  I've  come  to  realise  that  if 
we  give  the  Kaiser  a  beating,  the  German  people  will  kick  him 
put,  and  then  we  can  talk  sense  to  them." 


IV 

They  walked  along  for  a  bit  in  silence,  Jimmie  trying  to 
assimilate  these  ideas.  They  were  new — not  in  the  sense  that  he 
had  not  heard  them  before,  but  in  the  sense  that  he  had  not  heard 
them  from  a  German.  "How  does  your  father  feel?"  he  asked, 
at  last. 

"He  hasn't  changed,"  replied  the  other.  "And  that  makes  it 
pretty  hard — it's  all  we  can  do  to  keep  from  quarrelling.  He's 
old,  and  new  ideas  don't  come  to  him  easily.  Yet  you'd  think 
he'd  be  the  first  to  see  it — his  father  was  one  of  the  old  revolu- 
tionists, he  was  put  in  jail  in  Dresden.  I  don't  suppose  you 
know  much  about  the  history  of  Germany." 

"No,"  said  Jimmie. 

"Well,  in  those  days  the  German  people  tried  to  get  free, 
and  they  were  put  down  by  the  troops,  and  the  real  revolu- 
tionists were  driven  into  exile.  Some  of  them  came  over  here — 
like  my  grandfather.  But  you  see,  their  children  have  for- 
gotten about  their  wrongs — they  look  back  on  Germany  now, 
and  think  of  it  sentimentally,  as  it's  pictured  in  the  stories  and 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  TEMPTER      165 

songs — a  sort  of  Christmas-tree  Germany.  They  don't  know 
about  the  Germany  that's  grown  up — the  Germany  of  iron  and 
coal  kings,  that  combines  all  the  cruelty  of  feudalism  with  mod- 
ern efficiency  and  science — the  Beast  with  the  Brains  of  an 
Engineer  I" 

They  walked  on,  Emil  lost  in  thought.  "You  know/'  he  broke 
out,  suddenly,  "this  war  has  been  a  revelation  to  me — the  most 
horrible  you  could  imagine.  It's  as  if  you  loved  a  woman,  and 
saw  her  go  insane  before  your  eyes,  or  turn  into  some  sort  of 
degenerate.  For  I  believed  in  the  Christmas-tree  Germany; 
I  loved  it,  and  I  argued  for  it,  I  just  couldn't  bring  myself  to 
believe  what  I  read  in  the  papers.  Now  I  look  back,  and  it 
seems  like  a  trap  that  the  German  war-lords  had  set  for  my  mind 
— reaching  way  over  here  into  America,  and  making  me  think 
what  they  wanted  me  to!  Perhaps  I've  gone  to  the  other  ex- 
treme— I  find  I  distrust  everything  that's  German.  Father 
accused  me  of  it  last  night;  he  was  singing  an  old  German 
song  that  says  that  when  you  hear  men  singing  you  may  lie 
down  in  peace,  for  bad  men  have  no  songs.  And  I  reminded 
him  that  the  nation  which  taught  that  idea  had  marched  into 
Belgium  singing!" 

"Gee !"  exclaimed  Jimmie.  He  could  imagine  how  old  Her- 
mann Forster  had  taken  that  remark ! 

The  young  carpet-designer  smiled,  rather  sadly.  "He  says 
it's  because  I've  put  on  khaki.  But  the  truth  is,  Fd  been  full 
of  these  thoughts,  and  all  at  once  they  came  to  a  head.  I  was 
drafted,  and  I  had  to  make  up  my  mind  one  way  or  the  other. 
I  decided  Pd  fight — and  then,  when  I'd  decided,  I  wanted  to 
get  into  it  right  away."  Emil  paused,  and  looked  at  his  friend 
and  asked,  "What  about  you?" 

Jimmie,  of  course,  was  a  draft-evader,  one  of  the  hated 
"slackers."  Ordinarily,  he  would  have  told  Emil,  and  the  two 
of  them  would  have  grinned.  But  now  Emil  was  in  khaki, 
Emil  was  a  patriot;  perhaps  it  would  not  be  wise  to  trust  him 
entirely !  "They  haven't  got  me  yet,"  said  Jimmie ;  and  then, 
"I  ain't  so  sure  as  I  used  to  be,  but  I  ain't  ready  to  be  a  soldier 
—I  dunno's  I  could  stand  bein'  bossed  like  that  fellow  does  it." 

Emil  laughed.    "Don't  you  suppose  I  want  to  learn?" 

"But  does  he  need  to  call  you  names  ?" 

"That's  part  of  the  game — nobody  minds  that.  He's  putting 
the  pep  into  us — and  we  want  it  in." 


166  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Jimmie  found  that  such  a  new  point  of  view  that  he  didn't 
know  what  to  reply. 

"You  see,"  the  other  went  on,  "if  you  really  want  to  fight, 
you  go  in  for  it ;  it's  quite  remarkable  how  your  feelings  change. 
You  imagine  yourself  in  the  presence  of  the  enemy,  and  you 
know  your  success  depends  on  discipline;  if  there's  a  leader, 
and  especially  if  you  feel  that  he  knows  his  business,  you're 
glad  to  have  him  to  teach  you,  to  make  the  whole  machine  do 
what  you  want  it  to.  I  know  it  sounds  funny  from  me,  but 
I've  learned  to  love  discipline."  And  Emil  laughed,  a  nervous 
laugh.  "This  army  means  business,  let  me  tell  you;  and  it's 
got  right  down  to  it.  They've  been  fighting  three  years  and 
a  half  over  in  Europe,  and  they  send  their  best  men  over  to 
show  us,  and  we  dig  in  and  learn — I  tell  you,  we  work  as  if  the 
devil  was  after  us!" 


It  sounded  so  strange  to  hear  things  like  this  from  the  lips 
of  Emil  Forster !  Jimmie  could  hardly  make  them  real  to  him- 
self— the  world  was  slipping  from  under  his  feet.  The  Socialist 
movement  was  being  seduced — won  over  by  the  militarists! 
He  didn't  quite  dare  to  say  this;  but  he  hinted,  cautiously, 
"Ain't  you  afraid  maybe  we'll  get  used  to  fightin' — to  discipline 
and  all  that?  May  be  they'll  trick  us — the  plutes." 

"I  know,"  said  the  other.  "I've  thought  of  that,  and  Fve 
no  doubt  they'll  try  it — they  want  universal  training  for  that 
very  purpose.  We  have  to  fight  them,  that's  all;  we  have  to 
fight  right  now — to  make  clear  why  we're  going  into  this  war. 
We  have  to  hold  it  before  the  people — that  this  is  a  war  to 
bring  democracy  to  the  whole  world.  If  we  can  fix  that  in 
people's  minds,  the  imperialists  won't  have  a  look  in." 

"If  you  could  do  it,  of  course "  began  Jimmie,  hesitat- 
ingly. 

"But  we  are  doing  it!"  cried  Emil.  "We're  doing  it  day 
by  day.  Look  at  this  strike  here  in  Leesville." 

"What  strike?" 

"Didn't  you  know  there'd  been  another  walk-out  in  the 
Empire  Shops?" 

"No,  I  didn't." 

"The  men  went  out,  and  the  government  sent  an  arbitration 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  TEMPTER      167 

commission,  and  forced  both  sides  to  accept  an  award.  They 
broke  old  Granitch  down — made  him  recognise  the  union  and 
grant  the  basic  eight  hour  day." 

"My  God !"  exclaimed  Jimmie.  It  was  the  thing  for  which 
he  had  stood  up  in  the  Empire  yards  and  been  cursed  by 
young  Lacey  Granitch ;  it  was  the  thing  for  which  he  had  been 
sent  to  jail  and  devoured  by  lice!  And  now  the  government 
had  helped  the  men  to  win  their  demand!  It  was  the  first 
time — literally  the  first  in  Jimmie's  whole  life — that  he  had 
been  led  to  think  of  the  government  as  something  else  than  an 
enemy  and  a  slave-driver. 

"How  did  Granitch  take  it?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  awful !  He  threatened  to  quit,  and  let  the  government 
run  his  plant;  but  when  he  found  the  government  was  per- 
fectly willing,  he  dropped  his  bluff.  Aiid  look  here — here's 
something  else/5  Emil  reached  into  an  inside  pocket  of  his 
overcoat  and  pulled  out  a  newspaper  clipping.  "Ashton  Chal- 
mers went  to  a  banquet  at  some  bankers'  convention  the  other 
day  and  made  a  speech  to  them.  Eead  this/' 

Jimmie,  walking  along,  read  some  words  that  Emil  had 
underscored  in  pencil:  "Whether  we  will  or  no,  we  have  to 
recognise  that  the  old  order  is  dead.  We  face  a  new  era,  when 
labour  is  coming  into  its  own.  If  we  do  not  want  to  be  left 
behind  as  derelicts,  we  shall  have  to  get  busy  and  do  our  part 
to  bring  in  this  new  era,  which  otherwise  will  come  with  blood- 
shed and  destruction." 

"For  the  love  of  Mike !"  said  Jimmie. 

"It  just  about  knocked  Leesville  out/'  said  Emil.  "You 
ought  to  have  seen  the  papers  that  reported  the  speech!  It 
was  as  if  God  in  his  heaven  had  gone  crazy,  and  the  clergymen 
in  the  churches  had  to  tell  the  news !" 

To  the  little  machinist  there  flashed  a  sudden  idea.  He 
caught  his  friend  by  the  arm.  "Emil!"  he  exclaimed.  "Do 
you  remember  that  time  when  Ashton  Chalmers  and  old  Gran- 
itch came  to  our  meeting  at  the  Opera-House  ?" 

"Sure  thing!"  said  Emil. 

"Maybe  that  done  it !" 

"Nothing  more  likely." 

"And  it  was  me  that  sold  him  the  tickets!" 

Jimmie  was  thrilled  to  the  bottoms  of  his  shoes.  Such  is 
the  reward  that  comes  now  and  then  to  the  soul  of  a  propa- 


168  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

gandist;  he  struggles  on  amid  ridicule  and  despair — and  then 
suddenly,  like  a  gleam  of  light,  comes  evidence  that  some- 
where, somehow,  he  has  reached  another  mind,  he  has  made  a 
real  impression.  Ashton  Chalmers  had  listened  to  the  Social- 
ist orator,  and  he  had  gone  away  and  read  and  investigated; 
he  had  realised  the  force  of  this  great  world  movement  for 
economic  justice,  he  had  broken  the  bonds  and  barriers  of  his 
class,  and  told  the  truth  about  what  he  saw  coming.  When 
Jimmie  read  the  wonderful  words  which  the  bank  president 
had  spoken,  he  was  nearer  to  an  impulse  to  fight  Germany  than 
at  any  previous  moment  of  his  life! 


CHAPTEE  XVII 

JIMMIE   HIGGINS   WRESTLES   WITH   THE  TEMPTER 


course,  not  all  the  Socialists  of  Leesville  had  got  the  "mili- 
tary  bug"  like  Emil  Forster.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  Jimmie 
ran  into  Comrade  Schneider,  on  his  way  home  from  work  at  the 
brewery,  and  he  was  the  same  old  Schneider — the  same  florid 
Teuton  countenance,  the  same  solid  Teuton  voice,  the  same 
Indignant  Teuton  point  of  view.  All  Jimmie  had  to  do  was 
to  mention  the  name  of  Emil,  and  Schneider  was  off.  A  hell 
of  a  Socialist  he  was !  Couldn't  even  wait  for  the  drill-sergeant 
to  come  after  him,  but  had  to  run  and  hunt  for  him,  had  to 
go  and  put  himself  out  in  the  public  square,  where  the  town- 
loafers  could  watch  him  playing  the  monkey ! 

No,  said  Schneider,  with  abundant  profanity,  he  had  not 
moved  one  inch  from  his  position;  they  could  send  him  to  jail 
any  time  they  got  ready,  they  could  stand  him  up  before  a  firing- 
squad,  but  they'd  never  get  any  militarism  into  him.  Pressed 
for  an  answer,  the  big  brewer  admitted  that  he  had  registered; 
but  he  wasn't  going  to  be  drafted,  not  on  his  life!  Jimmie 
suggested  that  this  might  be  because  he  had  a  wife  and  six 
children;  but  the  other  was  too  much  absorbed  in  his  tirade  to 
notice  Jimmie's  grin.  He  blustered  on,  in  a  tone  so  loud  that 
several  times  people  on  the  street  overheard,  and  gave  him  a 
black  look.  Jimmie,  being  less  in  the  mood  of  martyrdom, 
parted  from  him  and  went  to  see  the  Meissners^ 

The  little  bottle-packer  was  living  in  the  same  place,  having 
rented  the  upper  part  of  his  house  to  a  Polish  family  to  help 
meet  his  constantly  rising  expenses.  He  welcomed  Jimmie  with 
open  arms — patted  him  on  the  back  with  delight,  and  opened 
a  bottle  of  beer  to  treat  him.  He  asked  a  hundred  questions 
about  Jimmie's  adventures,  and  told  in  turn  about  events  in 
Leesville.  The  local  as  a  whole  had  stood  firm  against  the  war, 

169 


170  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

and  was  still  carrying  on  propaganda,  in  the  face  of  ferocious 
opposition.  The  working  classes  were  pumped  so  full  of  "patri- 
otic dope/'  you  could  hardly  get  them  to  listen;  as  for  the 
radicals,  they  were  marked  men — their  mail  was  intercepted, 
their  meetings  attended  by  almost  as  many  detectives  as  spec- 
tators. A  number  had  been  drafted — which  Meissner  con- 
sidered deliberate  conspiracy  on  the  part  of  the  draft-boards. 

Who  had  been  taken?  Jimmie  asked.    The  other  answered: 

Comrade  Claudel,  the  jeweller — he  wanted  to  go,  of  course; 

and  Comrade  Koeln,  the  glass-blower — he  was  a  German,  but 

*  had  been  naturalised,  so  they  had  taken  him,  in  spite  of  his 

protests;  and  Comrade  Stankewitz 

"Stankewitz !"  cried  Jimmie,  in  dismay. 

"Sure,  he's  gone." 

"Was  he  willing?" 

"They  didn't  ask  if  he  was  willing.  They  just  told  him  to 
report/'  " 

Somehow  that  seemed  to  bring  the  war  nearer  to  Jimmie's 
consciousness  than  anything  that  had  happened  so  far.  The 
little  Roumanian  Jew  had  given  him  the  greater  part  of  his 
education  on  this  world-conflict;  it  was  over  the  counter  of  the 
cigar-store  that  Jimmie  had  got  the  first  geography  lessons  of  his 
life.  He  had  learned  that  Russia  was  the  yellow  country,  and 
Germany  the  green,  and  Belgium  the  pale  blue,  and  France  the 
light  pink ;  he  had  seen  how  the  railroads  from  the  green  to  the 
pink  ran  through  the  pale  blue,  and  how  the  big  fortresses  in  the 
pale  blue  all  faced  towards  the  green — something  which  Meis- 
sner and  Schneider  and  the  rest  of  the  green  people  considered  a 
mortal  affront,  a  confession  of  guilt  on  the  part  of  the  pale  blue 
people.  Comrade  Stakewitz's  wizened  up,  eager  little  face  rose 
before  Jimmie;  he  heard  the  shrill  voice,  trying  to  compose  the 
disputes  in  the  local.  "Comrades,  all  this  vill  not  get  us  any- 
vere !  There  is  but  vun  question  ve  have  to  answer,  are  ve  inter- 
nationalists, or  are  ve  not !" 

"My  God!"  cried  Jimmie.     "Ain't  that  awful?" 

He  had  got  to  the  point  where  he  was  willing  to  admit  that 
perhaps  the  Kaiser  had  got  to  be  licked,  and  maybe  it  was  all 
right  for  a  fellow  that  felt  like  Emil  Forster  to  go  and  lick 
him.  But  to  lay  hold  of  a  man  who  hated  war  with  all  his  heart 
and  soul,  to  drag  him  away  from  the  little  business  he  had 
painfully  built  up,  and  compel  him  to  put  on  a  uniform  and 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WRESTLES  WITH  TEMPTER    171 

obey  other  men's  orders — well,  when  you  saw  a  thing  like  that, 
you  knew  about  the  atrocities  of  war! 


n 

Comrade  Meissner  went  on.  Worse  than  that — they  had 
taken  Comrade  Gerrity.  And  Jimmie  stared.  "But  he's  mar- 
ried!" 

"I  know,"  explained  Meissner,  "but  that  ain't  what  counts. 
What  you  got  to  have  is  a  dependent  wife.  An'  the  Gerritys 
didn't  know  that — Comrade  Evelyn  held  on  to  her  job  as 
stenographer,  and  somebody  must  have  told  on  them,  for  the 
board  jacked  him  up,  and  cancelled  his  exemption.  Of  course, 
it  was  only  because  he  was  organiser  of  the  local;  they  want  to 
put  us  out  of  business  any  way  they  can." 

"What  did  Gerrity  do?" 

"He  refused  to  serve,  and  they  sent  a  squad  of  men  after 
him  and  dragged  him  away.  They  took  him  to  Camp  Sheridan, 
and  tried  to  put  him  in  uniform,  and  he  refused — he  wouldn't 
work,  he  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with  war.  So  they  tried 
him  and  sentenced  him  to  twenty-five  years  in  jail ;  they  put  him 
in  solitary  confinement,  and  he  gets  nothin'  but  bread  and 
water — they  keep  him  chained  up  by  his  wrists  a  part  of  the 


"Oh!  OUT  cried  Jimmie. 

"Comrade  Evelyn's  most  crazy  about  it.  She  broke  down 
and  cried  in  the  local,  and  she  went  around  to  the  churches — 
they  have  women's  sewing-circles,  you  know,  and  things  for  the 
Red  Cross,  and  her  and  Comrade  Mary  Allen  gets  up  and 
makes  speeches  an'  drives  the  women  crazy.  They  arrested  'em 
once,  but  they  turned  'em  loose — they  didn't  want  it  to  get  in 
the  papers." 

Comrade  Meissner  could  not  have  foreseen  how  this  par- 
ticular news  would  affect  Jimmie ;  Meissner  knew  nothing  about 
the  strange  adventure  which  had  befallen  his  friend,  the  ama- 
tory convulsion  which  had  shaken  his  soul.  Before  Jimmie's 
mind  now  rose  the  lovely  face  with  the  pert  little  dimples  and 
the  halo  of  fluffy  brown  hair;  the  thought  of  Comrade  Evelyn 
Baskerville  in  distress  was  simply  not  to  be  endured.  "Where 
is  she?"  he  cried.  He  had  a  vision  of  himself  rushing  forth- 
with to  take  up  the  agitation;  to  raid  the  church  sewing-circles 


172  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

and  brave  the  wrath  of  the  she-patriots;  to  go  to  jail  with 
Comrade  Evelyn;  or  perhaps — who  could  say? — to  put  about 
her,  gently  and  reverently,  a  pair  of  fraternal  and  comforting 
arms. 

Jimmie  had  the  temperament  of  the  dreamer,  the  idealist,  to 
whom  it  is  enough  to  want  a  thing  to  see  that  thing  forthwith 
coming  into  being.  His  imagination,  stimulated  by  the  image 
of  the  charming  stenographer,  rushed  forth  on  the  wildest  of 
flights.  He  realised  for  the  first  time  that  he  was  a  free  man  ; 
while,  as  for  Comrade  Evelyn,  suppose  the  worst  were  to  happen, 
suppose  Comrade  Grerrity  were  to  perish  of  the  diet  of  bread 
and^water,  or  to  be  dragged  into  the  trenches  and  killed — 
then  the  sorrowing  widow  would  be  in  need  of  some  one  to 
uphold  her,  to  put  fraternal  and  comforting  arms  about  her 

"Where  is  she?"  Jimmie  asked  again;  and  Comrade  Meis- 
sner  dissipated  his  dream  by  replying  that  she  had  gone  off  to 
work  for  an  organisation  in  New  York  which  was  agitating 
for  humane  treatment  for  "conscientious  objectors."  Meissner 
hunted  up  the  pamphlet  published  by  this  organisation,  telling 
most  hideous  stories  of  the  abusing  of  such  victims  of  the  mili- 
tary frenzy;  they  had  been  beaten,  tortured  and  starved,  sub- 
jected to  ridicule  and  humiliation,  in  many  cases  dragged 
before  courts-martial  and  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  twenty 
or  thirty  years.  Jimmie  sat  up  a  part  of  the  night  reading 
these  stories — with  the  result  that  once  more  the  feeble  sprout 
of  patriotism  was  squashed  flat  in  his  soul! 


in 

Jimmie  went  to  the  next  meeting  of  the  local.  It  was  a 
slender  affair  now,  for  some  of  the  members  were  in  jail,  and 
some  in  the  training-camps,  and  some  afraid  to  come  for  fear  of 
their  jobs,  and  some  discouraged  by  incessant  persecution.  But 
the  old  war-horses  were  there — Comrade  Schneider,  and  gentle 
old  Hermann  Forster,  and  Comrade  Mabel  Smith,  with  an 
account  of  her  brother's  mistreatment  in  the  county  jail,  and 
Comrade  Mary  Allen,  the  Quaker  lady.  This  last  was  still  tak- 
ing it  as  a  personal  affront  that  America  should  be  going  into 
the  bloody  mess,  in  spite  of  all  her  denunciations  and  protests; 
she  was  even  paler  and  thinner  than  when  Jimmie  had  seen  her 
last — her  hands  trembled  and  her  thin  lips  quivered  as  she 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WRESTLES  WITH  TEMPTER    173 

spoke,  you  could  see  that  she  was  burning  up  with  excitement 
over  the  monstrous  wickedness  of  the  world's  events.  She  read 
to  the  local  a  harrowing  story  of  a  boy  who  had  registered  as 
a  conscientous  objector  in  New  York,  and  had  been  taken 
out  to  a  training-camp  and  subjected  to  such  indignities  that 
he  had  shot  himself.  Comrade  Mary  had  no  children  of  her 
own,  so  she  had  adopted  these  conscientious  objectors,  and  as 
she  read  of  their  experiences,  her  soul  was  convulsed  with  a 
mingling  of  grief  and  rage. 

Jimmie  went  back  to  the  Empire  Shops  and  applied  for  a 
job.  They  needed  thousands  of  men,  so  the  "Herald"  declared 
— but  they  did  not  need  a  single  one  like  Jimmie !  The  man 
to  whom  he  applied  recognised  him  at  once,  and  said,  "Nothin' 
doin'."  For  the  sake  of  being  nasty,  Jimmie  went  to  the  head- 
quarters of  the  newly  formed  union,  and  asked  them  to  force 
old  Abel  Granitch  to  give  him  work,  according  to  the  terms  of 
the  agreement  with  the  government.  But  the  union  secretary, 
after  thinking  the  matter  over,  decided  that  the  provision  against 
blacklisting  applied  only  to  men  who  had  been  out  on  the  last 
strike,  not  to  the  strikers  of  a  couple  of  years  before.  There 
was  no  use  going  out  of  one's  way  to  look  for  trouble,  said  this 
secretary.  Jimmie  went  away  jeering  at  the  union,  and  damning 
the  war  as  heartily  as  ever. 

He  was  in  no  hurry  to  get  work,  having  still  some  money 
in  his  pocket,  and  being  able  to  live  cheaply  with  the  Meissners. 
He  went  again  to  watch  young  Forster  drilling,  and  went  home 
with  him  and  heard  an  argument  with  old  Hermann.  You 
could  see  how  this  family  had  been  split  wide  open;  the  old 
man  had  ordered  his  traitorous  son  out  several  times,  but  the 
mother  had  flung  herself  into  the  breach,  pleading  that  the  boy 
was  going  away  in  a  few  days,  and  perhaps  would  never  return. 
The  evening  that  Jimmie  was  there,  the  paper  printed  a  speech 
of  the  President,  outlining  his  purposes  in  the  war,  the  terms 
of  justice  for  all  peoples,  a  league  of  nations  and  universal 
disarmament.  Emil  read  this  triumphantly,  finding  in  it  a 
justification  of  his  support  of  the  war.  Wasn't  it  a  great  part 
of  what  the  Socialists  wanted? 

Hermann  answered  grudgingly  that  the  words  were  all  right, 
but  how  about  the  deeds?  Also,  how  about  the  other  Allies — 
did  the  President  imagine  he  could  boss  them?  No — to  the 
imperialists  of  England  and  France  and  Italy  those  fine  words 


174  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

were  just  bait  for  gudgeons ;  they  would  serve  to  keep  the  work- 
ers quiet  till  the  war  was  won,  and  then  the  militarists  would 
kick  out  the  American  President  and  pick  the  bones  of  the 
•carcass  of  Germany.  If  they  really  meant  to  abide  by  the  Presi- 
dent's terms,  why  didn't  they  come  out  squarely  and  say  so? 
Why  didn't  they  repudiate  the  verdammte  secret  treaties  ?  Why 
didn't  England  begin  her  career  in  democracy  by  setting  free 
Ireland  and  India? 

So  it  went ;  and  Jimmie  listened  to  both  speakers,  and  agreed 
with  both  alternately,  experiencing  more  and  more  that  distress- 
ing condition  of  mental  chaos,  in  which  he  found  himself  of  two 
absolutely  contradictory  and  diametrically  opposite  points  of 
view! 

IV 

All  winter  long  the  papers  had  been  full  of  talk  about  a 
mighty  German  offensive  that  was  coming  in  the  spring.  The 
German  people  were  being  told  all  about  it,  and  how  it  was  to 
end  the  war  with  a  glorious  triumph.  In  America  nobody  was 
sure  about  the  matter;  the  fact  that  the  attack  was  boldly  an- 
nounced seemed  good  reason  for  looking  elsewhere.  Perhaps 
the  enemy  was  preparing  to  overwhelm  Italy,  and  wished  to 
keep  France  and  England  from  sending  troops  to  the  weakened 
Italian  line! 

But  now  suddenly,  in  the  third  week  of  March,  the  Germans 
made  a  mighty  rush  at  the  British  line  in  front  of  Cambrai; 
army  upon  army  they  came,  and  overwhelmed  the  defenders, 
and  poured  through  the  breach.  The  British  forces  fell  back — 
every  hour  it  seemed  that  their  retreat  must  be  turned  into  a 
rout.  Day  by  day,  as  the  despatches  came  in,  Jimmie  watched 
the  map  in  front  of  the  "Herald"  office,  and  saw  a  huge  gap 
opening  in  the  British  line,  a  spear-head  pointing  straight  into 
the  heart  of  France.  Three  days,  four  days,  five  days,  this 
ghastly  splitting  apart  went  on,  and  the  whole  world  held  its 
breath.  Even  .Tim  mi  ft  Higgins  was  shaken  by  the  news — he 
had  got  enough  into  the  war  by  this  time  to  realise  what  a 
German  triumph  would  mean.  It  took  a  strong  pacifist  stom- 
ach indeed  to  contemplate  such  an  issue  of  events  without  flinch- 
ing. 

Comrade  Mary  Allen  had  such  a  stomach;  to  her  religious 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WRESTLES  WITH  TEMPTER    175* 

fervour  it  made  no  difference  whatever  which  set  of  robbers 
ruled  the  world.  Comrade  Schneider  had  it  also;  he  knew 
that  Germany  was  the  birth-place  and  cradle  of  Socialism,  and 
believed  that  the  best  fate  that  could  befall  the  world  was  for 
the  Germans  to  conquer  it,  and  let  the  German  Socialists  make 
it  into  a  co-operative  commonwealth  bye  and  bye.  Comrade 
Schneider  was  now  openly  gloating  over  this  new  proof  of 
German  supermanity,  the  invincibility  of  German  discipline. 
But  most  of  the  other  members  of  the  local  were  awed — realising 
in  spite  of  themselves  the  seriousness  of  the  plight  which  con- 
fronted civilisation. 

Jimmie  would  inspect  the  bulletin-board,  and  go  over  to 
watch  the  drilling,  and  then  to  Tom's  "Buffeteria"  with  Emil 
Forster.  He  had  always  had  an  intense  admiration  for  Emil, 
and  now  the  young  designer,  distressed  by  the  strife  at  home, 
was  glad  of  some  one  to  pour  out  his  soul  to.  He  would  help 
Jimmie  to  realise  the  meaning  of  the  British  defeat,  the  enor- 
mous losses  of  guns  and  supplies,  the  burden  it  would  put  upon 
America.  For  America  would  have  to  make  up  these  losses, 
America  would  have  to  drive  the  Germans  out  of  every  foot  of 
this  newly  conquered  territory. 

Jimmie  would  listen,  and  study  the  matter  out  on  the  map  ; 
and  so  gradually  he  learned  to  be  interested  in  a  new  science, 
that  of  military  strategy.  When  once  you  have  fallen  uader  the 
spell  of  that  game,  your  soul  is  lost.  You  think  of  men,  no 
longer  as  human  creatures,  suffering,  starving,  bleeding,  dying 
in  agony ;  you  think  of  them  as  chess-pawns ;  you  dispose  of  them 
as  a  gambler  of  his  chips,  a  merchant  of  his  wares ;  you  classify 
them  into  brigades  and  divisions  and  corps,  moving  them  here 
and  there,  counting  off  your  losses  against  the  losses  of  the 
enemy,  putting  in  your  reserves  at  critical  moments,  paying  this 
price  for  that  objective,  wiping  out  thousands  and  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  men  with  a  sweep  of  your  hand,  a  mark  of  your  pencil, 
a  pressure  on  an  electric  button!  Once  you  have  learned  to 
take  that  view  of  life,  you  are  no  longer  a  human  heart,  to  be 
appealed  to  by  pacifists  and  humanitarians ;  you  are  a  machine, 
grinding  out  destruction,  you  are  a  ripe  apple,  ready  to  fall 
into  the  lap  of  the  god  of  war,  you  are  an  autumn  leaf,  ready 
to  be  seized  by  the  gales  of  patriotism,  and  blown  to  destruction 
and  death. 


CHAPTEK  XVIII 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS   TAKES   THE  PLUNGE 


T EMMIE  went  home  one  evening  to  the  Meissners,  and  there 
**  got  a  piece  of  news  that  delighted  him.  Comrade  Stanke- 
witz  had  come  back  from  Camp  Sheridan !  The  man  to  whom 
he  had  sold  his  tobacco-store  having  failed  to  pay  up,  Stanke- 
witz  had  got  a  three  days'  furlough  to  settle  his  business  affairs. 
"Say,  he  looks  fine!"  exclaimed  Meissner;  and  so  after  supper 
Jimmie  hurried  off  to  the  little  store  on  the  corner. 

Never  had  Jimmie  been  so  startled  by  the  change  in  a  man ; 
he  would  literally  not  have  known  his  Eoumanian  Jewish  friend. 
The  wrinkles  which  had  made  him  look  old  had  filled  out;  his 
shoulders  were  straight — he  seemed  to  have  been  lifted  a  couple 
of  inches;  he  was  brown,  his  cheeks  full  of  colour — he  was  just 
a  new  man!  Jimmie  and  he  had  been  wont  to  skylark  a  bit 
in  the  old  days,  as  young  male  creatures  do,  putting  up  their 
fists,  giving  one  another  a  punch  or  two,  making  as  if  they  were 
going  to  batter  in  one  another's  noses.  They  would  grip  hands 
and  squeeze,  to  see  which  could  hold  out  longest.  But  now, 
when  they  tried  it,  there  was  "nothing  to  it"— -Jimmie  got  one 
squeeze,  and  hollered  quits. 

"Vat  you  tink?"  cried  Stankewitz.  "I  veigh  tventy  pounds 
more  already — tventy  pounds!  They  vork  you  like  hell  in 
that  army,  but  they  treat  you  good.  You  don't  never  have 
such  good  grub  before,  not  anyvere  you  vork." 

"You  like  it?"  demanded  Jimmie,  in  amazement. 

"Sure  I  like  it,  you  bet  your  money !  I  learn  lots  of  things 
vat  I  didn't  know  before.  I  get  myself  straight  on  this  var, 
don't  you  ferget  it." 

"You  believe  in  the  war?" 

"Sure  I  believe  in  it,  you  bet  your  money !"  Comrade  Stanke- 
witz, as  he  spoke,  pounded  with  an  excited  fist  on  the  counter. 

176 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  PLUNGE        177 

"Ve  got  to  vin  this  var,  see?  Ve  got  to  beat  them  Yunkers! 
I  vould  have  make  up  my  mind  to  that,  even  if  I  don't  go  in 
the  army — I  vould  have  make  it  up  ven  I  see  vat  they  do  vit 
Russia." 

"But  the  revolution " 

"The  revolution  kin  vait — maybe  vun  year,  maybe  two  years 
already.  It  don't  do  us  no  good  to  have  a  revolution  if  the 
Yunkers  walk  over  it !  No,  sir — I  vant  them  Germans  put  out 
of  Roumania  und  out  of  Russia  und  out  of  Poland — und  I  tell 
you,  in  this  American  army  you  got  plenty  Roumanian  Social- 
ists, plenty  Polish  Socialists,  und  the  Kaiser  vill  be  sorry  ven 
he  meets  them  in  France,  you  bet  your  money !" 

So  Jimmie  got  another  dose  of  patriotism,  a  heavy  dose  this 
time;  for  Stankewitz  was  all  on  fire  with  his  new  conviction, 
as  full  of  the  propaganda  impulse  as  he  had  been  when  he 
called  himself  an  "anti-nationalist."  He  could  not  permit  you 
to  differ  with  him — became  irritated  at  the  bare  mention  of 
those  formula-ridden  members  of  the  local  who  were  still  against 
the  war.  They  were  fools — or  else  they  were  Germans;  and 
Comrade  Stankewitz  was  as  ready  to  fight  the  Germans  in 
Leesville  as  in  France.  He  got  so  excited  arguing  that  he 
almost  forgot  the  cigars  and  the  show-cases  which  he  had  to 
get  rid  of  in  two  days.  To  Jimmie  it  was  an  amazing  thing  to 
see  this  transformation — not  merely  the  new  uniform  and  the 
new  muscles  of  his  Roumanian  Jewish  friend,  but  his  sense  of 
certainty  about  the  war,  his  loyalty  to  the  President  for  the  bold 
deed  he  had  done  in  pledging  the  good  faith  of  America  to 
securing  the  freedom  and  the  peaceful  future  of  the  harassed 
and  tormented  subject-races  of  Eastern  Europe. 


II 

Jimmie  got  a  sheet  of  letter  paper,  and  borrowed  a  scratchy 
pen  and  a  little  bottle  of  ink  from  Mrs.  Meissner,  and  wrote 
a  painfully  misspelled  letter  to  Comrade  Evelyn  Gerrity,  nee 
Baskerville,  to  assure  her  of  his  sympathy  and  undying  friend- 
ship. He  did  not  tell  her  that  he  was  beginning  to  wabble 
on  the  war;  in  fact,  when  he  thought  of  Jack  Gerrity,  chained 
up  to  the  bars  of  a  cell-window,  he  un-wabbled — he  wanted 
the  social  revolution  right  away.  But  then  as  he  went  to  drop 
the  letter  into  the  post-office,  so  that  it  might  go  more  quickly, 


178  JIMMIB 

he  bought  a  paper  and  read  the  story  of  what  was  happening 
in  France.  And  again  the  war-fervour  tempted  him. 

By  desperate,  frenzied  fighting  the  British  had  succeeded  in 
holding  up  for  a  few  days  the  colossal  German  drive.  But  help 
was  needed — instant  help,  if  civilisation  was  to  be  saved.  The 
cry  came  across  the  seas — America  must  send  assistance — guns, 
shells,  food,  and  above  all  else  men.  JimimV  s  blood  was  stirred ; 
he  had  an  impulse  to  answer  the  call,  to  rush  to  the  rescue  of 
those  desperate  men,  crouching  in  shell-holes  and  fighting  day 
and  night  for  a  week  without  rest.  If  only  Jimmie  could  have 
gone  right  to  them !  If  only  it  had  not  been  necessary  for  him 
to  go  to  a  training-camp  and  submit  himself  to  a  military  mar- 
tinet! If  only  it  had  not  been  for  war-profiteers,  and  crooked 
politicians,  and  lying,  predatory  newspapers,  and  all  the  other 
enemies  of  democracy  at  home ! 

Jimmie  dropped  his  letter  in  the  slot,  and  turned  to  leave 
the  post-office,  when  his  eye  was  caught  by  a  sign  on  the  wall — • 
a  large  sign,  in  bold,  black  letters:  "YOUR  COUNTRY  NEEDS 
YOU!"  Jimmie  thought  it  was  more  "Liberty  Bond"  busi- 
ness; they  had  been  after  him  several  times,  trying  to  separate 
him  from  his  earnings,  but  needless  to  say  they  hadn't  succeeded. 
However,  he  stopped  out  of  curiosity,  and  read  that  men  were 
needed  to  go  to  France — skilled  men  of  all  sorts.  There  was  a 
long  list  of  the  trades,  everything  you  could  think  of — carpenters, 

E lumbers,  electricians,  lumbermen,  stevedores,  railwaymen, 
lundrymen,  cooks,  warehousemen — so  on  for  several  columns. 
Jimmie  came  to  "machinists,"  and  gave  a  guilty  start;  then 
he  came  to  "motor-cycle  drivers"  and  "motor-cycle  repairers" 
— and  suddenly  he  clenched  his  hands.  A  wild  idea  flashed 
over  him,  causing  such  excitement  that  he  could  hardly  read 
on.  Why  should  he  not  go  to  France — he,  Jimmie  Higgins! 
He  was  a  man  without  a  tie  in  the  world — as  free  as  the  winds 
that  blew  across  the  ocean!  And  he  was  looking  for  a  job — 
why  not  take  one  of  these? 

It  was  a  way  he  might  share  all  the  adventures,  see  the 
marvellous  sights  of  which  he  had  been  reading  and  hearing,  and 
without  the  long  delay  in  a  training-camp,  without  waiting  to 
be  bossed  about  by  a  military  martinet!  Jimmie  looked  to  see 
what  pay  was  offered ;  fifty-one  dollars  a  month  and  an  "allow- 
ance" for  board  and  expenses.  At  the  bottom  of  the  sign  he 
read  the  words :  "Why  not  work  for  your  Uncle  Sam?"  Jimmie 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  PLUNGE 

as  it  happened  was  in  a  fairly  friendly  mood  towards  his 
Uncle  Sam  at  that  moment ;  so  he  thought,  why  not  give  him  a 
chance  as  a  boss?  After  all,  wasn't  that  what  every  Socialist 
was  aiming  at — to  be  an  employe  of  the  community,  a  servant 
of  the  public,  rather  than  of  some  private  profiteer? 

in 

Jimmie  went  to  the  window  to  inquire,  and  the  clerk  told 
him  that  the  "war-labour  recruiting  office"  was  at  the  corner 
of  Main  and  Jefferson.  He  came  to  the  corner  designated,  and 
there  in  a  vacant  store  was  a  big  recruiting  sign,  "War  Labour 
Wanted,"  and  a  soldier  in  khaki  walking  up  and  down.  A 
week  ago  Jimmie  could  not  have  been  bribed  to  enter  a  place 
presided  over  by  a  soldier;  but  he  had  learned  from  Emil  and 
Stankewitz  that  a  soldier  might  be  a  human  being,  so  he  went, 
up  and  said,  "Hello." 

"Hello,  yourself/7  said  the  soldier,  looking  him  over  with, 
an  appraising  eye. 

"If  I  was  to  hire  here,  when  would  I  start  for  France?" 

"To-night,"  said  the  soldier. 

"Youkiddin'rne?" 

"They  ain't  payin'  me  to  kid  people,"  said  the  other;  and 
then,  "What's  your  hurry?" 

"Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  stalled  in  a  trainin'  camp." 

"You  won't  be  stalled  if  you  know  your  business.  What 
are  you?" 

"I'm  a  machinist;  I've  repaired  bicycles,  an5  I  know  a  bit 
about  motor-cycles." 

"Walk  in,"  said  the  soldier,  and  led  the  way,  and  presented 
Jimmie  to  a  sergeant  at  the  desk.  "Here's  a  machinist,"  he- 
said,  "and  he's  in  a  hurry  to  get  to  work.  Kunnin'  away  from 
his  wife,  may  be." 

"There's  a  bunch  of  men  starting  for  the  training-camp 
to-night,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"Trainin'-camp  ?"  echoed  Jimmie.    "I  want  to  go  to  France."* 

The  other  smiled.  "You  wouldn't  expect  us  to  send  you 
till  we'd  tried  you  out,  would  you?" 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  replied  Jimmie,  dubiously.  He  was 
on  his  guard  against  tricks.  Suppose  they  were  to  enlist  him  as 
a  worker,  and  then  make  him  fight! 


180  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

The  other  went  on.  "If  you're  competent,  you'll  get  to 
France  all  right.  We  need  men  over  there  in  a  hurry,  and  we 
won't  waste  your  time." 

"Well  now,"  said  Jimmie,  "I  dunno's  you'll  want  me  at 
all  when  you  hear  about  me.  I'm  a  Socialist." 

"Thought  you  was  a  machinist,"  countered  the  ser- 
geant. 

"I'm  a  Socialist,  too.  I  was  in  the  strike  at  the  Empire  a 
coupla  years  ago,  and  they  blacklisted  me.  I  can't  get  no  work 
in  the  big  places  here." 

"Well,"  said  the  sergeant,  "it's  a  good  town  for  you  to  quit, 
I  should  say." 

"You  want  a  man  like  that?"  persisted  Jimmie. 

"What  we  want  is  men  that  know  machinery,  and'll  dig  in 
and  work  like  hell  to  beat  the  Kaiser.  If  you're  that  sort, 
we  don't  ask  your  religion.  We've  got  a  bunch  that  start  to- 
night." 

"Holy  smoke !"  said  Jimmie.  He  had  thought  he  would  have 
time  to  ask  questions  and  to  think  matters  over,  time  to  see  his 
friends  and  say  good-bye.  But  the  sergeant  was  so  efficient 
and  business-like;  he  took  it  so  completely  for  granted  that  any 
man  who  was  worth  his  salt  must  be  anxious  to  help  wallop  the 
Hun !  Jimmie,  who  had  come  in  full  of  hurry,  was  now  ashamed 
to  back  water,  to  hem  and  haw,  to  say,  "I  dunno;  I  ain't  so 
sure."  And  so  the  trap  snapped  on  him — the  monster  of  Mili- 
tarism grabbed  him! 

IV 

"Sit  down,"  said  the  sergeant,  and  the  anxious  little  Socialist 
took  the  chair  beside  the  desk. 

"What's  your  name?" 

"James  Higgins." 

"Your  address?" 

"I'm  just  stayin'  with  a  friend." 

"The  friend's  address  ?"  and  so  on :  where  had  Jimmie  worked 
last,  what  work  had  he  done,  what  references  had  he  to  offer. 
Jimmie  could  not  help  grinning  as  he  realised  how  his  record 
must  sound  to  a  military  martinet.  He  had  been  fired  and 
blacklisted  at  the  motor-truck  factory  in  Ironton,  his  last  job; 
he  had  been  fired  and  blacklisted  at  the  Empire  Shops ;  he  had 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  THE  PLUNGE       181 

been  arrested  and  sent  to  jail  for  soap-boxing  on  the  streets  of 
Leesville ;  he  had  been  arrested  in  the  bomb-conspiracy  of  Kumme 
and  Heinrich  von  Hoist.  The  sergeant  entered  each  of  these 
items  without  comment,,  but  when  he  came  to  the  last,  he  stared 
up  at  the  applicant. 

"I  didn't  have  nothin'  to  do  with  it,"  declared  Jimmie. 

"You  got  to  prove  that  to  "me,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"I  proved  it  once,"  replied  Jimmie. 

"Who  to?" 

"Mr.  Harrod,  the  agent  of  the  Department  of  Justice  here." 

The  other  took  up  the  telephone  and  called  the  post  office 
building,  Jimmie  listened  to  one  half  of  the  conversation — 
would  Mr.  Harrod  look  up  the  record  of  James  Higgins,  who 
was  applying  for  enlistment  in  the  Mechanical  Department  of 
the  Motor  Corps?  There  was  some  delay — Mr.  Harrod  was 
talking — while  Jimmie  sat,  decidedly  nervous;  but  it  was  all 
right  apparently — the  sergeant  hung  up  the  receiver,  and  re- 
marked reassuringly,  "He  says  you're  just  a  dub.  He  told 
me  to  congratulate  you  on  having  got  some  sense." 

Jimmie  made  the  most  of  this  more  than  dubious  statement, 
and  proceeded  to  answer  questions  as  to  his  competence.  Was 
there  anybody  at  the  Empire  who  could  certify  as  to  this  ?  The 
sergeant  was  about  to  call  up  the  Empire  Shops,  but  recon- 
sidered; if  Jimmie  had  actually  worked  in  a  machine-shop  and 
in  a  bicycle-shop,  they  would  surely  be  able  to  find  something 
for  him  in  the  army.  In  an  hour  of  such  desperate  need  they 
took  most  every  one.  "How  tall  are  you?"  demanded  the  ser- 
geant, and  added,  "Weight  don't  matter  so  much,  because  we'll 
feed  you." 

The  office  of  the  medical  examiner  was  upstairs  in  the  same 
building,  and  Jimmie  was  escorted  upstairs,  and  invited  to  re- 
move his  coat  and  shirt,  and  have  his  chest  measured,  and  his 
heart  and  lungs  listened  to,  and  his  teeth  counted,  and  his  nose 
peered  into,  and  a  score  of  such  like  stunts.  He  had  things 
wrong  with  him,  of  course,  but  not  too  many  for  army  purposes, 
it  appeared.  The  doctor  jotted  down  the  figures  on  a  sheet 
and  signed  it,  after  which  Jimmie  and  the  soldier  went  back  to 
the  recruiting-office. 

And  now  suddenly  the  little  Socialist  found  himself  with 
an  enlistment-paper  before  him,  and  a  wet  pen  in  his  hand. 
He  had  never  once  been  asked:  "Is  your  mind  made  up?  Do 


182  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

you  really  mean  to  take  this  irrevocable  step  ?"  No,  the  sergeant 
had  taken  it  for  granted  that  Jimmie  meant  business.  He  had 
done  all  this  inquiring  and  writing  down  of  information,  this 
weighing  and  measuring  and  what  not,  and  now  he  sat  with  a 
stern,  compelling  eye  fixed  on  his  victim,  as  much  as  to  say: 
"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  I've  done  all  that  for  nothing?" 
If  Jimmie  had  actually  refused  to  sign  his  name,  what  a  blast 
of  scorn  would  have  withered  him ! 

So  Jimmie  did  not  even  stop  to  read  all  the  paper;  he 
signed.  "And  now,"  said  the  sergeant,  "the  train  leaves  at 
nine-seventeen  this  evening.  I'll  be  there  to  give  you  your 
ticket.  Don't  fail  to  be  on  hand.  You  understand  you're  under 
military  discipline  now."  There  was  a  new  tone  in  these  last 
words,  and  Jimmie  quaked  inwardly,  and  went  out  with  a  sort 
of  hollow  feeling  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach. 


He  rushed  away  to  tell  Comrade  Stankewitz,  who  hugged 
him  with  delight,  and  shouted  that  they  would  meet  in  France ! 
Then  he  went  to  tell  Emil  Forster,  who  was  equally  glad.  He 
found  himself  with  an  impulse  to  hunt  up  Comrade  Schneider 
and  tell  him.  Jimmie  discovered  in  himself  a  sudden  and 
curious  antagonism  to  Schneider;  he  wanted  to  have  matters 
out  with  him,  to  say  to  him :  "Wake  up,  you  mutt — forget  that 
fool  dream  of  yours  that  the  Kaiser's  gojn'  to  win  the  war!" 

There  were  others  Jimmie  thought  of,  upon  whom  he  would 
not  call.  Comrade  Mary  Allen,  for  example — he  would  let  her 
get  the  news  after  he  was  out  of  the  reach  of  her  sharp  tongue ! 
Also  he  thought  of  Comrade  Evelyn;  he  might  never  see  her 
again ;  if  he  did  see  her,  she  might  refuse  to  speak  to  him ! 
But  Jimmie  repressed  the  pang  of  dismay  which  this  realisation 
brought  him.  He  was  going  to  war,  and  the  longings  and  de- 
lights of  love  must  be  put  to  one  side! 

He  went  to  the  Meissners  for  supper,  and  broke  the  news  to 
them.  He  had  expected  protests  and  arguments,  and  was  sur- 
prised by  the  lack  of  them.  Had  the  little  bottler-packer  been 
impressed  by  the  experiences  of  Comrade  Stankewitz  ?  Or  could 
it  be  that  he  was  afraid  to  voice  his  full  mind  to  Jimmie — just 
as  Jimmie  had  been  afraid  in  the  case  of  Emil  Forster  ? 

Jimmie  had  some  commissions  to  entrust  to  the  Meissners; 


JIMMIB  HIGGIN5  TAKES  THE  PLUNGE       183 

he  would  leave  with  them  the  diary  of  "Wild  Bill/'  which  he 
had  hung  on  to,  but  which  seemed  hardly  the  sort  of  literature 
to  take  on  a  transport. 

"Sure,"  assented  Meissner.  "Besides,  the  subs  might  get  it." 
And  Jimmie  gave  a  sudden  start.  By  heck!  It  was  the 
first  time  the  idea  had  occurred  to  him.  He  would  have  to  pass 
through  the  barred  zone!  He  might  be  in  some  fighting  after 
all!  He  might  never  get  to  France!  "Say!"  he  exclaimed. 
"That  ocean  must  be  cold  this  time  of  year!" 

For  a  moment  he  wavered.  Surely  it  would  have  been  more 
sensible  to  wait  till  later  in  the  season,  when  the  consequences 
of  a  plunge  overboard  would  be  less  distressing!  But  Jimmie 
remembered  the  armies,  locked  in  their  grip  of  death;  never 
would  despatch-riders  need  their  motor-cycles  more  urgently 
than  now !  Also  Jimmie  remembered  the  sergeant  at  the  recruit- 
ing-office. "You  understand,  you're  under  military  discipline 
now  \"  He  set  his  jaw  in  a  grim  resolve.  The  "subs"  be  damned, 
he  would  go  and  do  his  part !  Already  he  felt  the  thrill  of  his 
responsibility  in  this  mighty  hour  of  history;  he  was  a  military 
man,  with  a  stern  duty  to  do,  with  the  destinies  of  nations  de- 
pending upon  his  behaviour! 


CHAPTER  XIX 

JIMMIE    HIGGINS    PUTS    ON    KHAKI 


HP  HERE  were  seven  fellows  who  boarded  the  train  that  eve- 
•*•  ning,  under  the  temporary  charge  of  a  blacksmith  from  the 
nearby  country.  At  seven  o'clock  next  morning  they  presented 
their  papers  at  the  entrance-gate  of  the  training-camp,  and 
under  the  escort  of  a  soldier  were  marched  down  the  main  street, 
hanging  on  to  their  bundles  and  suit-cases,  and  staring  about 
them  at  the  sights. 

It  was  a  city,  inhabited  by  some  forty  thousand  men,  on  a 
site  which  a  year  ago  had  been  waste  scrub-land.  Long  rows 
of  wooden  buildings  stretched  in  every  direction — barracks, 
dining-rooms,  study-rooms,  offices,  store-houses — with  great 
stretches  of  exercise  and  training  grounds  between.  Just  to  see 
this  city,  with  its  swarming  population  of  young  men,  all  in 
uniform,  erect,  eager,  well  set-up  and  vivid  with  health,  every 
man  of  them  busy,  and  every  man  seemingly  absorbed  in  his 
job — that  alone  was  a  worth-while  experience.  It  was  a  new 
kind  of  city — a  city  without  a  loafer,  without  a  drunkard, 
without  a  parasite.  The  seven  workingmen  from  Leesville  felt 
suddenly  slouchy  and  disgraced,  with  their  ill-fitting  civilian 
clothes  and  their  miscellaneous  bundles  and  suit-cases. 

The  first  thing  they  did  with  the  new  arrivals  was  to  make 
them  clean,  to  fumigate  and  vaccinate  them.  In  a  Socialist 
local  one  meets  all  sorts  of  eccentrics,  the  lunatic-fringe  of  the 
movement,  and  so  it  happened  that  Jimmie  had  listened  to  a 
tirade  against  the  diabolical  practice  of  inoculation,  which 
caused  more  deadly  diseases  than  it  was  supposed  to  prevent. 
But  the  medical  officers  of  this  camp  did  not  stop  to  ask  Jim- 
mied conclusions  on  that  vital  subject;  they  just  told  him  to 
roll  up  the  sleeve  of  his  left  arm,  and  proceeded  to  wipe  his 
skin  clean  and  scratch  it  with  a  needle. 

184 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  ON  KHAKI  185 

And  then  came  the  tailor,  to  do  him  up  in  khaki.  This  also 
was  something  the  little  machinist  had  not  bargained  for;  he 
had  taken  it  as  a  matter  of  course  that  he  would  be  allowed  to 
work  for  Uncle  Sam  in  any  old  clothes,  just  as  he  had  done  for 
Abel  Granitch.  But  no — he  must  have  an  outfit,  complete  even 
to  a  tooth-brush,  which  they  would  show  him  how  to  use.  Hav- 
ing been  done  up  neat  and  tight  in  khaki,  with  a  motor-wheel  on 
his  sleeve  to  show  his  branch  of  the  service,  he  stood  and 
looked  at  himself  in  the  glass,  experiencing  a  demoralising  and 
unworthy  excitement.  He  was  every  bit  as  handsome  as  Com- 
rade Stankewitz!  When  he  walked  down  the  street,  would  the 
girls  giggle,  and  turn  to  look  at  him,  as  they  did  at  the  sedate 
and  proper  Comrade  Emil?  So  the  meshes  of  Militarism  were 
being  woven  about  the  soul  of  Jimmie  Higgins. 

II 

Jimmie  was  in  quarantine,  not  allowed  to  go  out  of  camp  on 
account  of  his  typhoid  and  other  vaccinations.  There  was 
enough  about  the  place  to  have  interested  him;  but,  alas,  he  be- 
came suddenly  very  sick,  and  was  terrified  to  realise  that  the 
opponent  of  inoculation  must  have  been  right.  His  health  had 
been  undermined  forever,  he  would  suffer  from  a  dozen  obscure 
diseases !  He  went  to  the  hospital,  miserable  in  body  and  still 
more  miserable  in  mind;  but  in  a  couple  of  days  he  began  to 
feel  better,  and  listened  to  the  nurses,  who  told  him  cheerfully 
that  everybody  felt  that  way  for  a  bit.  Then  he  got  up,  and  had 
several  free  days  in  which  to  complete  his  recovery — days  which 
he  spent  wandering  about  the  camp,  watching  the  fascinating 
sights. 

It  was  like  a  circus  with  hundreds  of  rings.  The  drilling 
and  marching  he  had  seen  in  the  Leesville  square  were  here 
going  on  wholesale.  Hundreds  of  groups  were  being  put  through 
squad-drill  and  the  manual,  while  other  groups  were  having 
special  kinds  of  exercises — climbing  up  walls,  digging  trenches, 
making  roads,  shooting  at  targets. .  It  rained  every  other  day, 
and  the  ground  was  a  morass,  but  no  one  paid  the  least  attention 
to  that;  the  men  came  in  plastered  with  mud,  and  steaming 
like  lard- vats.  They  seemed  to  enjoy  it;  nothing  ever  inter- 
fered with  their  bantering  and  jokes. 

Jimmie-  watched  them  with  alternating  moods  of  curiosity 


186  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

and  horror ;  for  the  things  that  were  done  here  brought  the  war, 
with  its  infinite  and  multiform  wickedness,  before  his  very  eyes. 
Here  was  a  group  of  men  being  taught  to  advance  under  fire; 
crawling  on  their  bellies  on  the  ground,  jumping  from  one  hum- 
mock to  another,  flinging  themselves  down  and  pretending  to 
fire.  A  man  in  front,  supposed  to  have  a  machine-gun,  was 
shouting  when  he  had  "got"  them.  Now  they  unslung  their  little 
trenching-tools,  and  began  to  burrow  themselves  like  wood- 
chucks  into  the  ground.  "Dig,  you  sons  o'  guns,  dig!"  the 
officer  would  shout.  "Keep  your  head  down,  Smith!  Make 
the  dirt  fly !  Put  the  jazz  into  it !  That's  the  stuff !" 

Jimmie  had  never  watched  football  practice,  so  he  had  no  con- 
ception of  the  efforts  to  which  men  could  be  goaded  by  "coach- 
ing." It  was  abhorrent — yet  also  it  was  fascinating,  the  spell 
of  it  got  hold  of  him.  He  saw  what  these  men  were  doing; 
they  were  learning  to  act  in  masses,  to  act  with  paralysing  and 
terrific  force.  Whatever  it  was  they  did,  they  did  with  the 
smash  of  a  battering-ram.  You  saw  the  fire  in  their  eyes,  the 
grim,  set  look  on  their  faces;  you  knew  that  they  were  not 
going  to  war  with  any  hesitations  or  divided  minds. 

You  would  move  over  a  rise  in  the  ground,  and  come  upon 
a  bunch  of  them  at  bayonet-practice.  You  didn't  require  imagi- 
nation to  get  the  hang  of  this;  they  had  dummies  made  of 
leather,  and  they  rushed  at  these  figures,  hacking,  stabbing — 
and  here  was  the  most  amazing  part  of  it,  shouting  with  rage. 
Actually,  the  officers  taught  them  to  yell,  to  snarl,  to  work  up 
their  feelings  to  a  fury !  It  was  blood-curdling — Jimmie  turned 
away  from  it  sick.  It  was  just  what  he  had  been  arguing  for 
three  years  and  a  half — you  had  to  make  yourself  into  a  wild 
beast  in  order  to  go  to  war! 

Also  Jimmie  watched  the  target-ranges,  from  which  came 
all  day  a  rattle  of  shots,  like  the  whir  of  many  typewriters. 
Companies  of  men  came  marching,  and  spread  themselves  out 
along  the  firing-steps,  and  under  the  direction  of  instructors 
proceeded  to  contribute  their  quota  to  the  noise.  Over  by  the 
targets  were  others  who  kept  score  and  telephoned  the  results ;  so 
all  day  long,  winter  or  summer,  rain  or  shine,  men  were  learning 
to  kill  their  fellows,  mechanically,  as  if  it  were  a  matter  of 
factory  routine.  At  other  ranges  were  moving  targets,  where 
sharp-shooters  were  acquiring  skill;  you  noticed  that  their  tar- 
gets were  never  birds  and  deer,  as  at  the  shooting-galleries 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  ON  KHAKI  187 

which  Jimmie  had  seen  at  the  beaches  and  at  Socialist  picnics. 
No,  they  were  the  heads  or  bodies  of  men,  and  each  body  painted 
a  greenish  grey,  matching  the  uniforms  of  the  enemy. 

in 

So  day  by  day  Jimmie  lived  with  the  idea  of  killing,  con- 
fronting the  grim  and  ferocious  face  of  war.  He  had  thought 
that  repairing  motor-cycles  would  be  pretty  much  the  same 
anywhere  you  did  it;  but  he  found  that  it  was  one  thing  to 
repair  motor-cycles  to  be  ridden  by  errand-boys  and  working- 
men  out  for  a  holiday  with  their  sweethearts,  and  another  and 
entirely  different  thing  to  repair  them  for  fighting-men  and 
despatch-couriers.  Jimmie  was  driven  more  insistently  than 
ever  to  make  up  his  mind  about  this  war.  It  was  every  day 
less  easy  for  him  to  hold  two  contradictory  sets  of  opinions. 

All  the  men  he  now  met  were  of  one  opinion,  and  by  no 
possibility  to  be  persuaded  to  consider  any  other.  Jimmie  found 
that  he  could  get  them  to  agree  that  after  this  war  for  democracy 
there  would  be  vast  changes  in  this  world,  the  people  would 
nevermore  let  themselves  be  hoodwinked  and  exploited  as  they 
had ;  he  found  that  he  could  interest  them  in  the  idea  of  having 
the  government  run  the  great  industries,  producing  food  and 
clothing  for  the  people  as  it  was  now  producing  them  for  the 
troops.  But  when  he  tried  to  give  this  programme  the  name  of 
Socialism,  then  the  trouble  began.  Weren't  Socialists  the  loons 
who  wanted  to  have  America  "lay  down"  like  Russia?  The 
premise  from  which  all  discussion  started  with  these  men  was 
that  America  was  going  to  win  the  war;  if  you  tried  to  hint 
that  this  matter  could  so  much  as  be  hesitated  over,  you  met, 
first  sharp  mockery,  and  then  angry  looks,  and  advice  to  go 
and  take  a  pill  and  get  the  Hun  poison  out  of  your  system. 

Nor  was  there  any  use  trying  to  talk  about  the  dangers  of 
militarism.  These  men  knew  all  about  the  dangers  of  militar- 
ism— for  the  Kaiser.  The  man  who  is  at  the  butt-end  of  a 
gun,  and  knows  how  to  aim  it  so  as  to  pick  off  a  cat  at  six  hun- 
dred yards — that  man  will  let  the  cat  do  the  worrying.  So, 
at  any  rate,  the  matter  seemed  to  these  husky  young  recruits, 
who  were  learning  to  march  in  the  mud  and  sleep  in  the  rain  and 
chew  up  carpet-tacks  and  grind  Huns  into  leber-wurst.  They 
were  putting  through  the  job  with  a  fierce  and  terrifying  gaiety; 


188  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

they  exulted  in  their  toughness,  they  called  themselves  "griz- 
zlies" and  "mountain  cats"  and  what  not ;  they  sang  wild  songs 
about  their  irritability,  their  motto  was  "Treat  'em  rough!" 
It  was  a  scary  atmosphere  for  a  dreamer  and  utopian;  Jimmie 
Higgins  shrank  into  himself,  afraid  even  to  reach  about  for  some 
fellow- Socialist  with  whom  he  might  exchange  opinions  about 
the  events  of  the  outside  world. 


IV 

In  the  evening  there  were  picture-shows,  concerts,  lectures — 
nearly  all  dealing  with  the  war,  of  course.  They  were  held  in 
big  halls  built  by  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  an  organisation  for  which 
Jimmie  had  a  hearty  contempt.  He  regarded  it  as  a  device  of 
the  exploiting  classes  to  teach  submission  to  their  white-collar 
slaves.  But  nobody  could  live  in  a  training-camp  without  being 
aware  of  the  "Y."  Jimmie  was  invited  to  a  lecture,  and  out 
of  boredom  he  went. 

It  was  Sergeant  Ebenezer  Collins,  imported  from  Flanders 
to  tell  the  "doughboys"  about  the  wiles  of  the  Hun.  Sergeant 
Collins  spoke  a  weird  language  which  Jimmie  had  never  heard 
before,  and  not  all  of  which  he  could  understand;  it  served, 
however,  to  convince  him  that  the  sergeant  was  genuine — for 
nobody  could  possibly  have  faked  such  a  form  of  utterance! 
"When  yer  gow  inter  Wipers  naow,"  said  the  orator,  "yer  see 
owld,  grye-headed  lydies  an'  bybies  like  little  wite  gowsts,  an' 
yer  sye  ter  them,  'Gow  a-wye,  the  'Un  may  be  'ere  ter-dye,'  but 
they  wown't  gow,  they  got  now  'omes  ter  gow  ter !" 

But  in  spite  of  the  difficulties  of  a  foreign  language,  you 
realised  that  this  cockney  sergeant  was  a  man.  For  one  thing 
he  had  a  sense  of  humour ;  he  had  kept  it  in  the  midst  of  terror 
and  death — kept  it  standing  all  night  in  trenches  full  of  icy 
cold  water,  with  icy  cold  water  pouring  down  his  collar.  Also 
the  sergeant  had  a  sense  of  honour — there  were  things  he  could 
not  do  to  a  'Un,  even  though  the  'Un  might  do  them  to  him. 
Jimmie  had  listened  to  excited  debates  in  Local  Leesville,  as 
to  whether  the  Allies  were  really  any  better  than  the  Germans ; 
whether,  for  example,  the  Allies  would  have  sunk  passenger- 
liners  with  women  and  babies  on  board,  if  it  had  been  neces- 
sary in  order  to  win  the  war.  Sergeant  Collins  did  not  debate 
this  question,  he  just  revealed  himself  as  a  fighting  man.  "It's 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  ON  KHAKI  189 

because  we  plye  gymes,  an'  they  down't,"  he  remarked.  "If 
yer  plye  gymes,  yer  now  'ow  to  plye  fair." 

For  three  years  and  eight  months  Jimmie  had  been  hearing 
stories  about  atrocities,  and  for  three  years  and  eight  months 
he  had  been  refusing  to  believe  them.  But  now  the  cockney 
sergeant  told  about  a  pal  who  had  been  wounded  in  a  night 
attack  by  the  'Uns,  and  the  sergeant  had  tried  to  carry  him 
back  and  had  had  to  leave  him;  towards  dawn  they  made  a 
counter-attack,  and  retook  the  village,  and  there  they  found  the 
sergeant's  pal,  still  alive,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  spiked 
to  a  barn-door  with  bayonets  ,hrough  his  hands  and  feet. 
When  that  story  was  told,  you  heard  a  low  murmur  run  through 
the  room,  and  saw  a  couple  of  thousand  young  men  clenching 
their  hands  and  setting  their  jaws,  getting  ready  for  their  big 
job  in  France. 

Just  now,  said  the  sergeant,  the  Germans  were  making  the 
most  desperate  attack  of  the  war.  The  British  were  at  bay, 
with  their  backs  against  the  wall.  It  was  upon  the  men  in  the 
training-camps  of  America  that  the  decision  rested;  there  was 
no  one  but  them  to  save  the  day,  to  save  the  rest  of  the  world 
from  falling  under  the  hoofs  of  the  Hun  monster.  Would  they 
do  their  part?  Jimmie  Higgins  heard  the  answer  from  those 
two  thousand  young  throats,  and  the  pacifist  in  him  shrunk 
deeper  out  of  sight. 

But  the  pacifist  was  never  entirely  silent.  War  was  wrong ! 
War  was  wrong!  It  was  a  wicked  and  brutal  way  for  human 
beings  to  settle  their  disagreements.  If  human  beings  were  not 
yet  intelligent  enough  to  listen  to  reason — well,  even  so,  that 
didn't  make  war  right !  A  man  had  to  have  principles,  and  to 
stand  by  them — how  else  could  he  make  the  world  come  his 
way?  Yes,  war  was  wrong!  But,  meantime,  war  was  here; 
and  calling  it  wrong  did  not  put  a  stop  to  it !  What  the  devil 
was  a  fellow  to  do  ? 


As  soon  as  Jimmie  was  able  to  work,  they  took  him  to  the 
part  of  the  camp  where  a  motor-cycle  division  was  training. 
Here  was  a  big  repair  shop,  with  plenty  of  damaged  machines 
upon  which  he  might  display  his  skill.  He  did  not  know  the 
particular  engine  they  used  here,  but  he  soon  learned  the  secrets 


190  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

of  it,  and  satisfied  the  officers  in  charge  that  he  knew  how  to 
take  one  apart  and  put  it  together  again,  to  replace  and  mend 
tires,  to  clean  ball-bearings  and  true  crooked  rims.  "You're 
all  right/'  they  said.  "And  you're  needed  like  the  devil  over 
there.  You  won't  have  to  wait  long." 

There  was  a  platform  where  the  trains  came  into  the  camp, 
and  every  few  hours  now  there  came  a  long  train  to  be  loaded 
with  men.  Jinimie  got  his  notice,  and  packed  his  kit  and 
answered  roll-call  and  took  his  place;  at  sun-down  of  the  next 
day  he  was  detrained  at  a  "mobilisation-camp" — another  huge 
city,  described  in  the  cautious  military  fashion  as  "Somewhere 
in  New  Jersey,"  though  everybody  within  a  hundred  miles  knew 
its  exact  location.  Here  was  a  port,  created  for  the  purposes 
of  war,  with  docks  and  wharves  where  the  fleets  of  transports 
were  loaded  with  supplies  and  troops.  The  vessels  sailed  in 
fleets,  carrying  thirty  or  forty  thousand  men  at  once.  From 
the  port  of  New  York  alone  there  was  going  out  a  fleet  like  this 
every  week — the  answer  of  America  to  the  new  drive  of  the  Hun. 

One  met  here,  not  merely  the  fighting-men,  but  the  forces 
of  all  the  complicated  service  behind  the  lines :  gangs  of  lumber- 
men from  the  far  Northwest,  who  were  to  fell  the  forests  of 
France  and  make  them  into  railroad-ties  and  timbers  for 
trenches;  railway-men,  miners,  and  construction-gangs,  engi- 
neers and  signalmen,  bridge-builders  and  road-makers,  telephone- 
linemen  and  operators,  the  drivers  of  forty  thousand  motor- 
cars and  of  five  thousand  locomotives ;  bakers  and  cooks,  menders 
of  shoes  and  of  clothing,  farmers  to  till  the  soil  of  France,  and 
doctors  and  nurses  to  tend  its  sick  and  wounded.  There  was 
nothing  which  the  skill  and  knowledge  of  a  nation  of  a  hundred 
million  people  had  to  offer  that  was  not  gathered  into  this  vast 
encampment.  All  the  youngest  and  keenest  were  here,  eager 
to  do  their  part,  laughing  at  danger,  tingling  with  excitement,  on 
tiptoe  with  curiosity  and  delight.  Jimmie  Higgins,  watching 
them,  found  his  doubts  melting  like  an  April  snow-storm.  How 
could  any  man  see  this  activity  and  not  be  caught  up  in  it? 
How  could  he  be  with  these  laughing  boys  and  not  share  their 
mood? 

Jimmie  himself  had  not  had  a  merry  childhood,  he  did  not 
know  the  youth  of  his  own  country — the  breezy,  slangy,  rather 
shocking,  utterly  irrepressible  youth  of  this  democratic  world. 
If  there  was  anything  they  did  not  know — well,  they  did  not 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  PUTS  ON  KHAKI  191 

know  it;  if  there  was  anything  they  could  not  do — their  motto 
was:  "Show  me!"  Jimmie,  not  having  been  to  school,  found 
himself  having  a  hard  time  with  their  weird  slang.  When  one 
of  these  fellows  hailed  you,  "Hey,  pimp !"  it  did  not  necessarily 
mean  that  he  did  not  like  you;  when  he  greeted  you,  "Hey, 
sweetness  I"  it  did  not  mean  that  he  felt  for  you  any  overpower- 
ing affection.  If  he  referred  to  his  officer  as  "hard-boiled,"  he 
did  not  have  in  mind  that  this  officer  had  been  exposed  to  the 
action  of  water  at  212  degrees  Fahrenheit;  he  merely  meant 
that  the  officer  was  a  snob.  When  he  remarked,  "Good-night  ?9 
in  broad  daylight,  he  meant  you  to  understand  that  he  disagreed 
with  you. 

He  disagreed  frequently  and  explosively  with  Jimmie  Hig- 
gins,  trying  to  point  out  a  difference  between  the  German  rulers 
and  the  German  people!  Such  subtleties  had  no  interest  for 
these  all-knowing  boys.  When  Jimmie  persisted,  they  called 
him  a  "nut,"  a  "poor  cheese";  they  told  him  that  he  was 
"cuckoo,"  that  his  "trolley  was  twisted";  they  made  whirling 
motions  with  their  hands  to  indicate  that  he  had  "wheels  in  his 
head,"  they  made  flapping  motions  over  him  to  signify  that 
there  were  "bats  in  his  belfry."  So  Jimmie  subsided,  and 
let  them  talk  their  own  talk — imploring  one  another  to  "have 
a  heart,"  or  to  "get  wise,"  or  to  "make  it  snappy,"  or  to  "cut 
out  the  rough  stuff."  And  he  would  sit  and  listen  while  they 
sang  with  zest  a  song  telling  about  what  they  were  going  to 
do  when  they  got  to  France: 

Bring  the  good  old  bugle,  boys,  we'll  sing  another  song, 
Sing  it  with  a  spirit  that  will  move  the  world  along, 
Sing  it  as  we  love  to  sing  it,  just  two  million  strong — 
While  we  are  canning  the  Kaiser. 

CHOBUS  : 

Oh,  Bill!    Oh,  Bill!    We're  on  the  job  to-day! 
Oh,  Bill!    Oh,  Bill!    We'll  seal  you  so  you'll  stay! 
We'll  put  you  up  in  ginger  in  the  good  old  Yankee  way— 
While  we  are  canning  the  Kaiser. 

Hear  the  song  we're  singing  on  the  shining  roads  of  France  ^ 
Hear  the  Tommies  cheering,  and  see  the  Poilus  prance; 
Africanders  and  Kanucks  and  Scots  without  their  pants — 
While  we  are  canning  the  Kaiser.  (Chorus) 


192  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Bring  the  guns  from  Bethlehem,  by  way  of  old  New  York; 
Bring  the  beans  from  Boston,  and  don't  leave  put  the  pork ; 
Bring  a  load  of  soda-pop,  and  pull  the  grape- juice  cork — 

While  we  are  canning  the  Kaiser.  (Chorus) 

Come  you  men   from  Dixieland,   you  lumberjacks   of  Maine; 
Come  you  Texas  cowboys,  and  you  farmers  of  the  plain; 
Florida  to  Oregon,  we  boast  the  Yankee  strain — 

While  we  are  canning  the  Kaiser.  (Chorus) 

Now  we've  started  on  the  job,  we  mean  to  put  it  through; 
Ship  the  kings  and  kaisers  all,  and  make  the  world  anew; 
Clear  the  way  for  common  folk,  for  men  like  me  and  you—- 
While we  are  canning  the  kaiser. 

CHORUS  : 

Oh,  Bill!    Oh,  Bill!    We're  on  the  job  to-day! 
Oh,  Bill!    Oh,  Bill!    We'll  seal  you  so  you'll  stay! 
We'll  put  you  up  in  ginger  in  the  good  old  Yankee  way— 
While  we  are  canning  the  Kaiser. 


CHAPTEE  XX 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  A  SWIM 


V7X)U  did  not  stop  very  long  in  the  mobilisation-camp,  for 
*  the  arrival  of  your  train  was  timed  with  the  arrival  of  the 
ship  on  which  you  were  to  sail.  You  had  a  meal,  sometimes 
you  slept  a  night,  then  you  marched  to  the  docks.  Nor  was 
there  much  of  the  traditional  "sweet  sorrow"  about  the  de- 
parture of  these  great  fleets;  the  weeping  mothers  and  sisters 
had  not  been  notified  to  be  present,  and  the  ladies  of  the  canteen- 
service  had  given  coffee  and  sandwiches,  cigarettes  and  choco- 
late, to  so  many  tens  of  thousands  that  they  had  forgotten  about 
tears.  It  was  like  the  emigration  of  a  nation;  the  part  of 
America  that  was  now  on  the  other  side  was  so  large  that  nobody 
would  need  to  feel  homesick. 

Jimmie's  embarking  was  done  at  night ;  on  the  long,  covered 
piers  lighted  by  arc-lights,  the  soldiers  set  down  their  kits  and 
stood  about,  munching  food,  singing  songs,  and  keeping  one 
another's  wits  sharpened  for  battle.  They  filtered  on  board, 
and  then  without  a  light  or  a  sound  the  vessel  stole  down  the 
long  stretches  of  the  harbour,  and  out  to  sea.  One  never  knew 
at  what  hour  the  enemy  submarines  might  attempt  a  raid  on 
the  American  side,  so  the  entrance  to  the  harbour  was  mined 
and  blockaded,  a  narrow  passage  being  opened  when  the  ships 
passed  through. 

When  morning  came  the  convoy  was  out  at  sea,  amid  glorious 
green  rollers,  and  Jimmie  Higgins  was  lying  in  his  narrow 
berth,  cursing  the  fates  that  had  lured  him,  the  monster  of 
Militarism  into  whose  clutches  he  had  been  snared.  The  army 
medical  service  had  a  serum  to  prevent  small-pox  and  another 
to  prevent  typhoid,  but  they  had  nothing  for  sea-sickness  as 
yet;  so  for  the  first  four  days  of  the  trip  Jimmie  wished  that 
a  submarine  would  come  and  end  his  misery  once  for  all. 

193 


194  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

At  last,  however,  he  came  on  deck,  an  utterly  humbled  So- 
cialist agitator,  asking  only  a  corner  to  lie  in  the  sunshine — 
preferably  where  he  could  not  see  the  Atlantic  surges,  the  very 
thought  of  which  turned  him  inside  out.  But  gradually  he 
found  his  feet  again,  and  ate  with  permanence,  and  looked  out 
over  the  water  and  saw  the  other  vessels  of  the  convoy,  weirdly 
painted  with  many-coloured  splotches,  steaming  in  the  shape  of 
a  gigantic  V,  with  two  cruisers  in  front,  and  another  on  each 
side,  and  another  bringing  up  the  rear.  Day  and  night  the 
look-outs  kept  watch,  and  the  wig-wag  men  and  the  heliograph 
men  were  busy,  and  the  wireless  buzzed  its  warnings  of  the 
movements  of  the  underwater  foe.  The  U-boats  had  not  yet 
got  a  transport,  but  they  had  made  several  tries,  and  every  one 
knew  that  they  would  continue  trying.  Twice  a  day  the  clang- 
ing of  bells  sounded  from  one  end  of  the  vessel  to  the  other,  and 
the  crews  rushed  to  the  boat-drill;  each  passenger  had  his 
number,  and  unless  he  was  ill  in  his  berth  he  had  to  take  his 
specified  place,  with  his  life-preserver  strapped  about  his  waist. 

The  passengers  played  cards,  and  read  and  sang  and  sky- 
larked about  the  decks.  Up  on  the  top  deck,  to  which  Jimmie 
was  not  invited,  were  officers,  also  a  number  of  women  and 
girls  belonging  to  the  hospital  and  ambulance  units.  "Janes" 
was  the  term  by  which  the  soldier-boys  described  these  latter; 
you  could  see  they  were  a  good  sort  of  "Janes,"  serious  and 
keen  for  their  job,  looking  businesslike  and  impressive  in  their 
uniforms  with  many  pockets.  Among  them  were  suffragists, 
answering  the  taunt  of  the  other  sex,  showing  that  in  war  as 
well  as  in  peace  the  world  needed  them;  it  had  to  find  a  place 
for  them  on  board  the  most  badly  crowded  transport. 

Never  having  been  on  an  ocean-liner  before,  Jimmie  did 
not  know  that  it  was  crowded ;  it  did  not  trouble  him  that  there 
was  hardly  room  for  a  walk  on  the  decks.  He  watched  the 
sea  and  the  great  white  gulls  and  the  piebald  ships ;  he  watched 
the  crew  at  work,  and  got  acquainted  with  his  fellow-passengers. 
Before  long  he  found  a  driver  of  an  ambulance  who  was  a 
Socialist;  also  an  I.  W.  W.  from  the  Oregon  lumber-camps. 
Even  the  "wobblies,"  it  appeared,  had  come  to  hate  the  Kaiser; 
a  bunch  of  them  were  in  France,  and  more  would  have  come, 
if  the  government  had  not  kept  them  cross  by  putting  their 
leaders  into  jail.  An  army-officer  with  some  sense  had  gone  into 
the  spruce-country  of  the  far  North-west,  and  had  appealed  *o 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  A  SWIM  195 

the  patriotism  of  the  men,  giving  them  decent  hours  and  wages, 
and  recognizing  their  unions;  as  a  result,  even  the  dreaded 
I.  W.  W.  organization  had  turned  tame,  and  all  the  lumber-jacks 
had  pitched  in  to  help  in  "canning  the  Kaiser"! 


II 

The  fleet  was  nearing  the  submarine-zone  and  it  was  time 
for  the  convoying  destroyers  to  arrive.  Everybody  was  peering 
out  ahead,  and  at  last  a  cry  ran  along  the  decks:  "There  they 
are!"  Jimmie  made  out  a  speck  of  smoke  upon  the  horizon, 
and  saw  it  turn  into  a  group  of  swiftly  flying  vessels.  He 
marvelled  at  the  skill  whereby  they  had  been  able  to  find  the 
transports  on  this  vast  and  trackless  sea;  he  marvelled  at  the 
slender  vessels  with  their  four  low,  rakish  stacks.  These  sea- 
terriers  were  thin  skins  of  steel,  covering  engines  of  enormous 
power;  they  tore  through  the  water,  literally  with  the  speed 
of  an  express-train,  leaving  a  boiling  white  wake  behind.  See- 
ing them  rock  and  swing  from  side  to  side  in  the  waves,  hurled 
this  way  and  that,  you  marvelled  that  human  beings  could  live 
in  them  and  not  be  jerked  to  pieces.  Jimmie  never  tired  of 
observing  them,  nor  did  they  tire  of  racing  in  and  out  between 
the  vessels  of  the  convoy,  weaving  patterns  of  foam,  the  men  on 
their  decks  watching,  watching  for  the  secret  foe. 

Every  one  on  board  the  transports  of  course  was  on  the 
alert.  Jimmie  in  his  secret  heart  was  scared  stiff,  but  he  did 
not  reveal  it  to  these  mocking  soldier-boys,  who  made  merry 
over  German  U-boats  as  they  did  over  sauerkraut  and  pretzels 
and  limburger  and  "wienies,"  otherwise  known  as  "hot  dogs." 
Actually,  Jimmie  found,  they  were  hoping  to  encounter  a  sub- 
marine; not  to  be  hit,  of  course,  but  to  have  the  torpedo  pass- 
within  a  foot  or  two,  so  that  they  might  have  something  thrilling 
to  write  to  the  folks  at  home ! 

There  came  storms,  and  blinding  sheets  of  rain  across  the 
water,  and  mists  that  hid  everything  from  view;  but  still  the 
little  sea-terriers  dashed  here  and  there,  winding  their  foam 
wakes  about  the  fleet,  by  night  as  well  as  by  day.  How  they 
managed  to  avoid  collisions  in  the  dark  was  a  mystery  beyond 
imagining;  Jimmie  lay  awake,  picturing  one  of  them  plunging 
like  a  sharp  spear  into  the  rows  of  bunks  in  the  steerage  where 
he  had  been  stowed.  But  when  morning  dawned,  his  berth  was 


196  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

unspeared,  and  the  watch-dogs  of  the  sea  were  still  weaving  their 
patterns. 

It  was  a  day  of  high  wind,  with  clouds  and  fitful  bursts  of 
sunshine  in  which  the  waves  shone  white  and  sparkling.  Jimmie 
was  standing  by  the  rail  with  his  "wobbly"  friend,  watching  the 
white-caps,  when  his  companion  called  his  attention  to  a  sparkle 
that  seemed  to  persist,  hitting  one  in  the  eye.  They  pointed  it 
out  to  others,  and  as  the  orders  were  strict  to  report  anything 
out  of  the  way,  some  one  shouted  to  the  nearest  look-out.  A 
cry  went  over  the  ship,  and  there  was  hasty  wigwagging  of 
the  signalmen,  and  three  of  the  destroyers  leaped  away  like 
hounds  on  the  chase. 

There  were  some  on  board  who  had  glasses,  and  they  cried 
out  that  it  was  a  black  object,  and  finally  reported  it  a  raft 
with  people  on  it.  Later,  when  Jimmie  reached  port,  he  heard 
an  explanation  of  the  sparkle  which  had  caught  his  eye — a  woman 
on  the  raft  had  a  little  pocket-mirror,  and  had  used  this  to  flash 
the  sun's  rays  upon  the  vessel,  until  at  last  she  had  attracted 
attention. 

Those  who  had  glasses  were  mostly  on  the  upper  deck,  so 
Jimmie  did  not  see  anything  of  the  rescue;  the  transports  of 
course  did  not  swerve  or  delay,  for  their  orders  forbade  all 
altruisms.  Even  the  little  destroyers  would  not  approach  the 
raft  until  they  had  scoured  the  sea  for  miles  about,  and  then 
they  did  not  stop  entirely,  but  slid  by  and  tossed  ropes  to  the 
people  on  the  raft,  dragging  them  aboard  one  by  one.  A  sea- 
man standing  near  Jimmie  explained  this  procedure;  it  ap- 
peared that  the  submarines  were  accustomed  to  lurk  near  rafts 
and  life-boats,  preying  upon  those  vessels  which  came  to  their 
rescue.  Distressed  castaways  were  bait — "live  bait,"  explained 
the  seaman;  the  U-boats  would  lurk  about  for  days,  sometimes 
for  a  week,  watching  the  people  in  the  life-boats  struggle  against 
the  waves,  watching  them  die  of  exposure  and  starvation  and 
thirst,  watching  them  signal  frantically,  waving  rags  tied  onto 
oars,  shouting  and  praying  for  help.  One  by  one  the  castaways 
would  perish,  and  when  the  last  of  them  was  gone,  the  U-boat 
would  steal  away.  "Dead  bait's  no  good,"  explained  the  seaman. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  A  SWIM  197 


in 

This  mariner,  Toms  by  name,  came  from  Cornwall;  for  the 
transport  was  British,  and  so  also  the  convoying  war-ships — 
Jimmie's  fate  had  been  entrusted  to  "perfidious  Albion" !  Seven 
times  this  Toms  had  been  torpedoed  and  seven  times  rescued, 
and  he  had  most  amazing  tales  to  tell  to  landlubbers,  and  a 
new  light  to  throw  on  a  subject  which  our  Socialist  landlubber 
had  been  debating  xfor  several  years — the  torpedoing  of  passenger- 
vessels  with  women  and  children  on  board.  Somehow  Jimmie 
found  it  a  different  proposition  when  he  heard  of  particular 
women  and  children,  how  they  looked  and  what  they  said,  and 
what  happened  when  they  took  to  open  boats  in  midwinter,  and 
the  boats  filled  up  with  water,  and  the  children  turned  blue  and 
then  white,  and  were  rescued  with  noses  and  ears  and  hands 
and  feet  frozen  off. 

Jimmie  was  a  workingman,  and  understood  the  language  of 
workingmen,  their  standards  and  ways  of  looking  at  life.  And 
here  was  a  workingman;  not  a  conscious  Socialist,  to  be  sure, 
but  a  union  man,  sharing  the  Socialist  distrust  of  capitalists 
and  rulers.  What  this  weather-bitten  toiler  of  the  sea  told  to 
Jimmie,  Jimmie  was  prepared  to  understand  and  believe;  so  he 
learned,  what  he  had  refused  to  learn  from  prostitute  newspapers, 
that  there  was  a  code  of  sea-manners  and  sea-morals,  a  law  of 
marine  decency,  which  for  centuries  had  been  unbroken  save 
by  pirates  and  savages.  The  men  who  went  down  to  the  sea  in 
ships  were  a  class  of  their  own,  with  instincts  born  of  the 
peculiar  cruelties  of  the  element  they  defied — instincts  which 
broke  across  all  barriers  of  nations  and  races,  and  even  across 
the  hatreds  of  war. 

But  now  these  sea-laws  had  been  defied,  and  the  Hun  who 
had  defied  them  had  placed  himself  outside  the  pale  of  the 
human  race.  In  the  souls  of  seamen  there  had  been  generated 
against  him  a  hatred  of  peculiar  and  unique  ferocity ;  they  hunted 
him  as  men  hunt  vipers  and  rattle-snakes.  The  union  to  which 
this  Toms  belonged  had  pledged  itself,  not  merely  for  the  war, 
but  for  years  afterwards,  that  its  members  would  not  sail  in 
German  ships,  nor  in  any  ship  in  which  a  German  sailed,  nor 
in  any  ship  which  sailed  to  a  German  port,  nor  which  carried 
German  goods.  It  had  refused  to  carry  Socialist  delegates  de- 
siring to  attend  international  conferences  with  German  Social- 


198  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

ists;  it  had  refused  to  carry  for  any  purpose  labour  leaders 
whom  it  considered  too  mercifully  disposed  towards  Germany. 

When  Jimmie  learned  this,  you  can  imagine  the  arguments, 
continuing  far  into  the  night !  Quite  a  crowd  gathered  about, 
and  they  gave  it  to  the  little  Socialist  hot  and  heavy.  The 
upshot  of  it  was  that  somebody  reported  him,  and  the  officer  in 
command  of  his  "motor-unit"  read  him  a  stern  lecture.  He 
was  not  here  to  settle  peace-terms,  but  to  do  his  work  and  hold 
his  tongue.  Jimmie,  awed  by  the  fangs  and  claws  of  the  mon- 
ster of  Militarism,  answered,  "Yes,  sir,"  and  went  away  and 
sulked  by  himself  the  whole  day,  wishing  that  the  submarines 
might  get  this  transport,  with  everybody  on  board  except  two 
Socialists  and  one  "wobbly." 


IV 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  day  they  were  due  in  port. 
Everybody  wore  life-preservers,  and  stood  at  his  station;  when 
suddenly  came  a  yell,  and  a  chorus  of  shouts  from  the  side  of 
the  ship,  and  Jimmie  rushed  to  the  rail,  and  saw  a  white  wake 
coming  like  a  swift  fish  directly  at  the  vessel.  "Torpedo  I"  was 
the  cry,  and  men  stood  rooted  to  the  spot.  Far  back,  where  the 
white  streak  started,  you  could  see  a  periscope,  moving  slowly; 
there  was  a  volley  of  cracking  sounds,  and  the  water  all  about 
it  leaped  high,  and  the  little  sea-terriers  rushed  towards  it, 
firing,  and  getting  ready  their  deadly  depth-bombs.  But  of 
all  that  Jimmie  got  only  a  glimpse;  there  came  a  roar  like  the 
opening  of  hell  in  front  of  him ;  he  was  thrown  to  the  deck,  half - 
stunned,  and  a  huge  fragment  of  the  rail  of  the  vessel  whirled 
past  his  head,  smashing  into  a  stateroom  behind  him. 

The  ship  was  in  an  uproar;  people  rushing  here  and  there, 
the  members  of  the  crew  leaping  to  get  away  the  boats.  Jimmie 
sat  up  and  stared  about  him,  and  the  first  thing  he  saw  was  his 
friend  the  "wobbly,"  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood,  with  a  great  gash 
in  his  head. 

Suddenly  somebody  began  to  sing:  "Oh,  say,  can  you  see 

by  the  dawn's  early  light "  Jimmie  had  always  hated  that 

song,  because  jingoes  and  patrioteers  used  it  as  an  excuse  to 
bully  and  humiliate  radicals  who  did  not  jump  to  their  feet 
with  sufficient  alacrity.  But  now  it  was  wonderful  to  see  the 
effect  of  the  song;  everybody  joined,  and  the  soldier-boys  and 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  A  SWIM  199 

workingmen  and  nurses  and  lady  ambulance-drivers,  no  matter 
how  badly  scared,  recalled  that  they  were  part  of  an  army  on 
the  way  to  war.  Some  helped  the  crews  to  get  the  boats  into 
the  water;  others  bound  up  the  wounds  of  the  injured,  and 
carried  them  across  the  rapidly  slanting  decks. 

The  great  ship  was  going  down.  It  was  horrible  to  realise — 
this  mighty  structure,  this  home  for  two  weeks  of  several 
thousand  people,  this  moving  hotel  with  its  sleeping-berths, 
its  dining-saloons,  its  kitchens  with  lunch  ready  to  be  eaten,  its 
mighty  engines  and  its  cargo  of  every  kind  of  necessity  and 
comfort  for  an  army — all  was  about  to  plunge  to  the  bottom  of 
the  sea!  Jimmie  Higgins  had  read  about  the  torpedoing  of 
scores  of  ocean-liners,  but  in  all  that  reading  he  had  learned 
less  about  the  matter  than  he  learned  in  a  few  minutes  while  he 
clung  half -dazed  to  a  stay-rope,  and  watched  the  life-boats  swing 
out  over  the  sides  and  disappear. 


"Women  first !"  was  the  cry;  but  the  women  would  not  go 
until  the  wounded  had  been  taken,  and  this  occasioned  delay. 
Jimmie  helped  to  get  his  friend  the  "wobbly,"  and  passed  him 
on  to  be  lowered  with  a  rope.  By  that  time  the  deck  had  got 
such  a  slant  that  it  was  hard  to  walk  on  it ;  the  bow  was  settling, 
and  the  stern  rearing  up  in  the  air.  Never  could  you  have 
realised  the  size  of  an  ocean-liner,  until  you  saw  it  rear  itself 
up  like  a  monstrous  mountain,  preparatory  to  plunging  beneath 
the  waves!  "Jump  for  it!"  shouted  voices.  "They'll  pick 
jou  up  from  the  other  vessels.  Jump  and  swim." 

So  Jimmie  rushed  to  the  rail.  He  saw  a  life-boat  below, 
trying  to  push  away,  and  being  beaten  against  the  vessel  by  the 
heavy  waves.  He  heard  a  horrible  scream,  and  saw  a  man  slip 
between  the  boat  and  the  side  of  the  liner.  People  on  every 
side  of  him  were  jumping — so  many  that  he  could  not  find  a  clear 
spot  in  the  water.  But  at  last  he  saw  one,  and  climbed  upon 
the  rail  and  took  the  plunge. 

He  struck  the  icy  water  and  sank,  and  a  wave  rolled  over 
him.  He  came  up  quickly,  owing  to  his  life-preserver,  and 
gasped  for  breath,  and  was  choked  by  another  rushing  wave 
and  then  pounded  on  the  head  by  an  oar  in  the  hands  of  a  strug- 
gling sailor.  He  managed  to  get  out  of  the  way,  and  struck 


200  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

out  to  get  clear  of  the  vessel.  He  knew  how  to  do  this,  thanks 
to  many  "swimmin'-holes" — including  the  one  he  had  visited 
with  the  Candidate.  But  he  had  never  before  swam  in  such 
deadly  cold  as  this;  it  was  colder  than  he  had  dreamed  when 
he  had  talked  about  it  with  Comrade  Meissner!  Its  icy  hand 
seemed  to  smite  him,  to  smite  the  life  out  of  him;  he  struggled 
desperately,  as  one  struggles  against  suffocation. 

The  waves  beat  him  here  and  there;  and  then  suddenly  he 
was  seized  as  if  by  the  falls  of  Niagara,  drawn  along  and  drawn 
under — down,  down.  He  thought  it  was  the  end,  and  when 
again  he  bobbed  up  to  the  surface,  his  breath  was  all  but  gone. 
The  great  bulk  of  the  vessel  was  no  longer  in  sight,  and  Jimmie 
was  struggling  in  a  whirlpool,  along  with  upset  boats  and  oars 
and  deck-chairs  and  miscellaneous  wreckage,  and  scores  of 
people  clinging  to  such  objects,  or  swimming  frantically  to  reach 
them. 

Jimmie  was  just  about  ready  to  roll  over  and  let  his  face 
go  under,  when  suddenly  there  loomed  above  him  on  the  top 
of  a  wave  a  boat  rowed  swiftly  by  sailors.  One  in  the  boat 
flung  a  rope  to  him,  and  he  tried  to  catch  it,  but  missed;  the 
boat  plunged  towards  him,  and  an  arm  reached  out,  and  caught 
him  by  the  collar.  It  was  a  strong  and  comforting  arm,  and 
Jimmie  abandoned  himself  to  it,  and  remembered  nothing  more 
for  a  long  time. 

VI 

When  Jimmie  opened  his  eyes  again  he  was  in  a  most 
extraordinary  position.  At  first  he  could  not  make  it  out,  he 
was  only  aware  of  endless  bruises  and  blows,  as  if  some  one  were 
shaking  him  about  in  a  gigantic  pepper-cruet.  As  nature  pro- 
tested desperately  against  such  treatment,  Jimmie  fought  his 
way  back  to  consciousness,  and  caught  hold  of  something,  in 
his  neighbourhood,  which  presently  turned  out  to  be  a  brass  rail- 
ing; he  struggled  to  ward  off  the  blows  of  his  tormentors,  which 
turned  out  to  be  the  aforesaid  railing,  plus  a  wall,  plus  two 
other  men,  one  on  each  side  of  him,  the  three  of  them  being 
lashed  to  the  brass  railing  with  ropes.  The  wall  and  railing 
and  Jimmie  and  the  other  men  were  behaving  in  an  incredible 
fashion — swinging  down,  as  if  they  were  plunging  into  a  bottom- 
less abyss,  then  swinging  up,  as  if  they  were  going  to  part  alto- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  TAKES  A  SWIM  201 

gether  from  this  mundane  sphere;  the  total  enormous  swing, 
from  bottom  to  top,  being  mathematically  calculated  to  occupy 
a  period  of  five  and  one  half  seconds  of  time. 

Jimmie  discovered  before  long  that  there  were  a  whole  row 
of  men,  lashed  fast  and  subjected  to  this  perplexing  form  of 
torture.  They  made  you  think  of  a  row  of  carcasses  in  a 
butcher-shop — only,  who  could  picture  a  butcher-shop  whose 
floor  careened  to  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  in  one  direction, 
and  then,  in  a  space  of  precisely  five  and  a  half  seconds,  careened 
to  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  in  the  opposite  direction? 

And  they  kept  bringing  more  carcasses  and  hanging  them  in 
this  insane  butcher-shop !  Two  sailors  in  uniforms  would  come 
staggering,  carrying  a  man  between  them,  clinging  to  the  railing, 
to  Jimmie,  to  the  other  men,  to  anything  else  they  could  grab. 
They  would  make  a  desperate  rush  while  the  swing  was  right, 
and  get  to  a  new  place  on  the  railing,  where  they  would  tie  the 
new  man  with  a  bit  of  rope  about  his  waist,  and  leave  him 
there  to  be  mauled  and  pounded.  One  side  of  the  room  was 
lined  solid  with  carcasses,  and  then  the  other  side,  and  still  they 
came.  This  was  apparently  a  dining-saloon,  there  being  a  table 
down  the  middle,  and  two  rows  of  chairs;  they  lashed  people  into 
these  chairs,  they  brought  others  and  lashed  them  to  the  bottom 
of  the  chairs — any  old  place  at  all!  There  were  some  who 
thought  they  could  hold  on  for  themselves;  but  after  the  sailors 
were  gone  they  discovered  that  it  took  more  skill  to  hold  on 
than  they  realised,  and  they  would  come  hurtling  across  the 
floor,  winding  up  with  a  crash  on  top  of  some  one  else. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  in  Jimmie's  life  that  he  had  had  to 
scramble  for  himself  in  some  uncomfortable  situation;  he  got 
his  wits  together  quickly.  He  was  shivering  as  if  with  ague, 
and  he  managed  to  get  out  of  his  wet  coat.  There  being  a 
couple  of  ladies  strapped  into  chairs  in  front  of  him,  he  did 
not  like  to  go  further;  but  presently  came  sailors  with  armfuls 
of  blankets,  and  made  him  perform  the  complicated  feat  of  get- 
ting out  of  his  dripping  icy  uniform  and  getting  the  blanket 
wrapped  around  his  middle,  so  that  the  rope  would  not  saw  him 
into  halves.  Then  came  a  steward  with  a  pot  of  hot  coffee; 
being  marvellously  expert  at  holding  this  at  all  angles  of  the 
ship,  he  poured  it  into  cups  with  little  funnels  for  drinking,  and 
thus  got  some  down  Jimmie's  throat. 

The  little  machinist  felt  better  after  that,  and  was  able  to 


202  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

devote  attention  to  the  man  on  his  right,  who  had  hit  his  nose 
so  many  times  that  it  was  bleeding  in  a  stream,  and  had  been 
tilted  at  so  many  angles  that  the  blood  had  run  into  his  eyes  and 
made  him  blind.  The  man  on  the  other  side  of  him  apparently 
could  make  no  effort  at  all  to  keep  his  face  from  being  pounded, 
or  his  feet  from  being  thrown  into  the  pit  of  Jimmie's  stomach ; 
after  Jimmie  made  a  number  of  protests,  an  officer  came  along, 
and  put  his  ear  to  the  man's  chest  and  pronounced  him  dead. 
They  brought  another  rope,  and  lashed  him  tighter,  so  that  he 
would  behave  himself. 

For  several  hours  Jimmie  clung  to  that  railing.  The  de- 
stroyer would  soon  be  in  port,  they  kept  telling  him ;  meantime 
they  brought  him  hot  soup  to  keep  up  his  strength.  Some  peo- 
ple fainted,  but  there  was  nothing  that  could  be  done  for  them. 
The  first  boat-loads  of  the  rescued  had  filled  up  the  berths  of 
both  officers  and  crew ;  the  rest  must  hang  on  to  the  railings  as 
best  they  could.  They  should  be  thankful  it  was  decent  weather, 
said  one  of  the  sailors;  the  vessel  didn't  roll  any  faster  in  bad 
weather,  but  it  rolled  much  farther  in  the  same  time — a  dis- 
tinction which  struck  Jimmie  as  over-subtle. 

The  poor  fellow's  arms  were  numb  with  exhaustion,  he  had 
lost  hope  that  anything  in  the  world  ever  could  be  still,  when  the 
announcement  was  made  that  the  harbour  was  in  sight,  and 
everybody's  troubles  would  soon  be  over.  And  sure  enough, 
the  rolling  gradually  became  less.  The  little  vessel  still  quivered 
from  stem  to  stern  with  the  movement  of  her  enormous  engines, 
but  Jimmie  didn't  mind  that — he  was  used  to  machinery;  he 
got  himself  untied  from  the  railing,  and  lay  down  on  the  floor, 
right  there  where  he  was,  and  fell  asleep.  Nor  did  he  open  his 
eyes  when  they  came  with  a  stretcher,  and  carried  him  onto  a 
pier  and  slid  him  into  a  motor-truck  and  whisked  him  off  to  a 
hospital. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

JI100E  HIGGINS  ENTERS  SOCIETY 


Jimmie  took  an  interest  in  life  again  he  was  lying 
in  a  bed:  a  bed  that  actually  was  still,  that  did  not  rise 
with  a  leaping  motion  to  the  ceiling,  and  then  sink  like  a  swift 
elevator  into  the  basement.  Better  yet  was  the  fact  that  this 
bed  had  clean  sheets,  and  a  lovely  angel  in  spotless  white  hover- 
ing about  it.  You  who  read  of  Jimmie  Higgins'  adventures 
have  perhaps  been  blessed  with  some  of  the  good  things  of  life, 
and  may  need  to  have  it  explained  to  you  that  never  before 
had  Jimmie  known  what  it  was  to  sleep  between  sheets — to 
say  nothing  of  clean  sheets;  never  had  he  known  what  it  was 
to  sleep  in  a  night-gown ;  never  had  he  had  hot  broth  fetched  to 
him  by  a  snow-white  angel  with  a  bright  smile  and  an  aureole 
of  golden-brown  hair!  This  marvellous  creature  waited  on  his 
slightest  nod,  and  when  she  was  not  busy  running  errands  for 
him,  she  sat  by  his  bedside  and  chatted,  asking  him  all  sorts  of 
questions  about  himself  and  his  life.  She  thought  he  was  a 
soldier,  and  he,  shameless  wretch,  discovered  what  she  thought, 
and  delayed  to  tell  her  that  he  was  a  common  repairer  of 
motor-cycles ! 

This  was  a  war-hospital,  and  there  were  terrible  sights  to 
be  seen  here,  terrible  sounds  to  be  heard;  but  Jimmie  for  a 
long  time  missed  them  almost  entirely — he  was  so  comfortable ! 
He  lay  like  a  nice  dozy  cat ;  he  ate  good  things  and  drank  good 
things,  and  then  he  fell  asleep,  and  then  he  opened  his  eyes  in 
the  sunshine  of  a  golden  brown  aureole.  It  was  only  gradually 
that  he  realised  that  somewhere  in  the  ward  a  man  was  choking 
and  gasping  all  night,  because  the  inside  of  his  lungs  had  been 
partly  eaten  out  with  poisonous  acids. 

Jimmie  inquired  and  was  told  that  more  than  a  hundred 
people  on  the  transport  had  lost  their  lives,  including  several 

203 


204  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

women;  the  nurse  brought  a  paper  with  a  list  of  the  casualties, 
among  which  he  read  the  name  of  Mike  Angoni — his  friend  the 
"wobbly"  from  the  far  West !  Also  the  name  of  Peter  Toms — 
the  seaman  from  Cornwall,  caught  at  the  eighth  attempt ! 
Jimmie  read  that  the  submarine  which  had  sunk  the  transport 
had  been  shattered  by  a  depth-charge,  and  the  sea  all  strewn 
with  the  wreckage  of  it;  and  strange  and  terrible  as  it  might 
seem,  Jimmie,  the  pacifist,  the  Socialist,  experienced  a  thrill  of 
satisfaction!  Not  once  did  he  stop  to  reflect  that  on  board 
this  underwater  craft  might  have  been  some  German  comrade, 
some  poor,  enslaved,  unhappy  internationalist  like  himself! 
Jimmie  wanted  the  sneaking,  treacherous  terrors  of  the  sea  ex- 
terminated, regardless  of  everything! 

The  nurse  with  the  halo  of  golden-brown  hair  got  interested 
in  her  American  patient,  and  would  sit  and  talk  with  him 
every  chance  she  got.  She  learned  about  Eleeza  Betooser  and 
the  babies  who  had  been  blown  to  pieces  in  the  explosion.  Also 
she  learned  about  Jimmie's  being  a  Socialist,  and  asked  him 
questions  about  it.  Wasn't  he  just  a  little  hard  on  the  leisure 
classes?  Might  it  not  be  that  some  of  the  capitalists  would 
be  as  glad  as  he  to  know  about  a  better  social  system?  The 
young  lady  pronounced  the  word  "capitalists"  with  the  accent 
on  the  "it,"  which  puzzled  Jimmie  for  a  time;  also  she  assured 
him  that  "wage  shedules"  would  never  go  back  to  what  they 
were  before  the  war,  and  Jimmie  had  to  ask  what  a  "shedule" 
might  be.  He  did  not  have  to  ask  what  she  meant  by  a  "tart," 
because  there  it  was  on  his  tray — a  delicious  little  strawberry 
pie. 

II 

This  meant  that  the  destroyer  had  come  to  an  English 
port;  the  nurse  was  a  Britisher.  If  Jimmie  had  had  tact,  he 
would  have  remembered  that  Britishers  have  an  outfit  of  earls 
and  dukes  and  lords  and  things,  to  which  they  are  sentimentally 
attached.  But  tact  is  not  the  leading  virtue  of  Socialists;  in 
fact  Jimmie  made  a  boast  of  scorning  it — if  people  asked  his 
opinion,  he  "gave  it  to  ?em  straight."  So  now  he  caused  this 
white  angel  to  understand  that  he  regarded  the  effete  aristocra- 
cies of  the  old  world  with  abysmal  contempt;  he  meant  to  put 
them  out  of  business  right  off  the  bat.  In  vain  the  white  angel 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  SOCIETY  205 

pleaded  that  some  of  them  might  be  useful  people,  or  at  any 
rate  well-meaning;  Jimmie  pronounced  them  a  bunch  of  para- 
sites and  grafters;  the  thing  to  do  was  to  make  a  clean  sweep 
of  them. 

"You  won't  cut  off  their  heads  ?"  pleaded  the  nurse.  "Sure- 
ly they  ought  to  have  a  chance  to  reform  V 

"Oh,  sure  I"  answered  Jimmie.  "All  I  mean  is,  everybody's 
got  to  go  to  work — the  dooks  an'  aristercrats  like  the  rest." 

The  nurse  went  off,  carrying  Jimmie's  chamber  to  be 
emptied;  and  while  she  was  gone,  the  man  in  the  next  bed,  a 
gun-pointer  from  an  American  destroyer  with  his  head  bandaged 
up  so  that  he  looked  like  a  Hindoo  swami,  turned  his  tired  eyes 
upon  Jimmie  and  drawled :  "Say,  you  guy,  you  better  can  that 
line  o' talk!" 

"Whaddyer  mean?"  demanded  Jimmie,  scenting  controversy 
with  some  militarist. 

"I  mean  that  there  young  lady  belongs  to  the  nobility  her- 
self." 

"Go  on !"  said  Jimmie. 

"Straight !"  said  the  other.  "Her  father's  the  earl  of  Skye- 
terrier,  or  some  such  damn  place." 

"Aw,  cut  it  out !"  growled  the  little  machinist — for  you  never 
knew  in  dealing  with  these  soldier  boys  whether  you  were  being 
"kidded"  or  not. 

"Did  you  ask  her  name?" 

"She  told  me  it  was  Miss  Clendenning." 

"Well,  you  ask  her  if  she  ain't  the  Honourable  Beatrice  Clen- 
denning, and  see  what  she  says." 

But  Jimmie  could  not  get  up  the  nerve  to  ask.  When  the 
young  lady  came  back,  carrying  his  chamber  washed  clean,  her 
pet  patient  was  lying  still,  but  so  red  in  the  face  that  she  sus- 
pected that  he  had  been  trying  to  get  out  of  bed  without  per- 
mission. 


in 

Nor  was  that  the  end  of  wonders.  Next  day  there  ran  a 
murmur  of  excitement  through  the  ward,  and  everything  was 
cleaned  up  fresh,  though  there  was  really  nothing  that  needed 
cleaning.  Flowers  were  brought  in,  and  each  nurse  had  a  flower 
pinned  on  her  waist.  When  Jimmie  asked  what  was  "up,"  the 


206  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Honourable  Beatrice  looked  at  him  with  a  quizzical  smile. 
"We're  going  to  have  some  distinguished  visitors/'  she  said. 
"But  you  won't  be  interested — a  class-conscious  proletarian  like 
you."' 

And  she  would  not  tell  him;  but  when  she  went  out,  the 
fellow  in  the  next  bed  told.  "It's  the  king  and  queen  that's 
comin',"  said  the  gun-pointer. 

"Aw,  ferget  it!"  said  Jimmie — quite  sure  he  was  being 
"kidded"  this  time. 

"Comin'  to  see  the  submarine  victims,"  said  the  gun-pointer. 
"You  cut  out  your  Socialist  rough  stuff  for  to-day." 

Jimmie  asked  the  nurse  when  she  came  back;  and  sure 
enough,  it  was  true — the  king  and  queen  were  to  visit  the  hos- 
pital, and  pay  their  respects  to  the  victims  of  the  U-boat.  But 
that  wouldn't  interest  Jimmie  Higgins.  Would  he  not  rather 
be  carried  away  and  put  in  a  private  room  somewhere,  so  that 
his  revolutionary  eyes  would  not  be  offended?  Or  would  he 
stay,  and  make  a  soap-boxer  of  His  Majesty? 

"Sure,  he  won't  have  no  time  to  talk  to  a  feller  like  me!" 
said  Jimmie. 

"Don't  you  be  too  sure,"  replied  the  other.  "He's  got  noth- 
ing to  do  but  talk,  you  know !" 

Jimmie  didn't  venture  any  farther,  because  he  knew  that  the 
Honourable  Beatrice  was  laughing  at  him,  and  he  had  never  been 
laughed  at  by  a  woman  before,  and  didn't  know  quite  how  to 
take  it.  He  could  not  have  been  expected  to  understand  that 
the  Honourable  Beatrice  was  a  suffragette,  and  laughed  at  all 
men  on  general  principles.  Jimmie  lay  quietly  in  his  bed  and 
concealed  the  unworthy  excitement  in  his  soul.  Wasn't  that 
the  devil  now?  Him,  a  little  runt  of  a  workingman  from  no- 
where in  particular,  that  had  been  brought  up  on  a  charity- 
farm,  and  spent  a  good  part  of  his  life  on  the  bum — him  to  be 
meeting  the  king  of  England !  Jimmie  had  a  way  of  disposing 
of  kings  that  was  complete  and  final;  he  called  them  "kinks," 
and  when  he  had  called  them  that  he  had  settled  them,  wiped 
them  clean  out.  "None  o'  them  kinks  fer  me!"  he  had  said 
to  the  Honourable  Beatrice. 

But  now  a  "kink"  was  coming  to  the  hospital !  And  what  was 
Jimmie  going  to  do  ?  How  the  devil  did  you  talk  to  'em  ?  Did 
you  have  to  say,  "Your  Majesty"?  Jimmie  gripped  his  hands 
under  the  bed-covers,  "I'll  be  damned  if  I  do !"  He  summoned 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  ENTERS  SOCIETY          207 

his  revolutionary  fervour,  he  called  up  the  spirits  of  his  "wobbly" 
friends,  "Wild  Bill"  and  "Strawberry"  Curran  and  "Flathead 
Joe"  and  "Chuck"  Peterson.  What  would  they  do  under  these 
circumstances?  What  would  the  Candidate  do?  Somehow, 
Jimmie's  revolutionary  education  had  been  neglected — nothing 
had  ever  been  said  in  any  Socialist  local  as  to  how  a  comrade 
should  behave  when  a  "lank"  came  to  visit  him! 

Jimmy  was  naturally  a  kindly  human  being;  he  was  ready 
to  respond  to  the  kindness  of  other  human  beings.  But  was 
it  in  accord  with  revolutionary  ethics'  to  be  polite  to  a  "kink"  ? 
Was  it  not  his  duty  to  do  something  to  show  his  contempt  for 
"kinks"?  Maybe  his  Royal  Nibs  never  had  anybody  to  "stand 
up  to  him"  in  all  his  life  before.  Well,  let  him  have  it  to-day  t 

IV 

A  nurse  rushed  into  the  ward  in  great  excitement,  and 
whispered,  "They're  coming!"  And  after  that  the  nurses  all 
stood  round,  twisting  their  hands  together  nervously,  and  the 
patients  lay  with  their  eyes  glued  on  the  door  where  the  appari- 
tion was  to  appear. 

At  last  there  came  in  sight  a  man  dressed  in  uniform,  who 
Jimmie  would  never  have  dreamed  could  be  a  king — except  that 
he  had  seen  his  picture  in  the  illustrated  papers.  He  was  a 
medium-sized,  rather  stoop-shouldered  little  gentleman,  decidedly 
commonplace-looking,  with  a  closely  trimmed  brown  beard  turn- 
ing grey,  and  rosy  cheeks  such  as  all  Englishmen  have.  He  was 
escorted  by  the  head  of  the  hospital-staff ;  and  behind  him  came 
a  lady,  a  severe-looking  lady  dressed  in  black,  with  a  couple  more 
doctors  escorting  her,  and  behind  them  several  officers  in  uni- 
form. 

The  king  and  queen  stopped  at  the  head  of  the  room,  and 
looked  down  the  rows  of  beds.  Each  of  them  wore  a  friendly 
smile,  and  nodded,  and  said,  "How  do  you  do  ?"  And  of  course 
everybody  smiled  back,  and  the  nurses  curtsied  and  said,  "How 
do  you  do,  Your  Majesties?"  And  then  His  Majesty  said,  "I 
hope  everybody  is  doing  well  ?"  And  the  doctor  called  the  head 
nurse  in  charge  of  the  ward,  who  came  up  smiling  and  bowing, 
and  answered  that  everybody  was  doing  beautifully,  thank  you ; 
at  which  both  His  Majesty  and  Her  Majesty  declared  that  they 
were  so  pleased.  The  queen  looked  about,  and  seeing  a  man  with 


208  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

many  bandages,  went  to  him  and  sat  by  his  bedside  and  began  to 
ask  him  questions ;  the  king  moved  down  the  centre  of  the  room, 
until  suddenly  his  eye  happened  on  the  Honourable  Beatrice. 

She  had  not  moved;  she  stood  at  her  place  like  the  other 
nurses.  But  Jimmie,  watching,  saw  a  smile  come  upon  the 
king's  face,  and  he  moved  towards  her,  saying,  "Oh!  How  do 
you  do?"  The  young  lady  went  to  meet  him,  quite  as  if  she 
were  used  to  meeting  kings  every  day. 

"How  are  your  patients  doing?"  inquired  His  Majesty. 

"Beautifully,"  said  she;  and  His  Majesty  said  that  he  was 
pleased — just  as  if  he  had  not  said  the  same  words  only  a 
minute  before.  He  looked  at  the  patients  with  benevolent  but 
tired-looking  eyes ;  and  the  Honourable  Beatrice,  by  those  subtle 
methods  known  to  women,  brought  it  about  that  he  looked 
especially  at  her  favourite.  She  knew  that  he  would  wish  to  talk 
to  some  of  the  patients,  and  by  ever  so  slight  a  movement  she 
brought  it  about  that  it  was  towards  Jimmie  Higgins  he  ad- 
vanced. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked,  and  then,  <fWell,  Higgins, 
how  are  you  feeling  ?" 

"Sure,  I'm  all  right,"  said  Jimmie  sturdily;  "I  wanner  get 
up,  only  she  won't  let  me." 

"Well,"  said  His  Majesty,  "the  time  was  when  the  king  was 
the  tyrant,  but  now  it's  the  nurse."  He  smiled  at  the  Honour- 
able lady.  "Are  you  an  American  soldier?" 

"Naw,"  replied  Jimmie,  "I'm  only  a  machinist." 

"This  is  a  war  of  machines,"  replied  His  Majesty,  gra- 
ciously. 

"I'm  a  Socialist !"  exclaimed  Jimmie,  right  off  the  bat. 

"Indeed!"  said  His  Majesty. 

"You  bet !"  was  the  reply. 

"But  you're  not  one  of  those  Socialists  who  oppose  their 
country,  I  see." 

"I  done  it  for  a  long  time,"  said  Jimmie.  "I  didn't  see 
we  had  no  business  in  this  here  war.  But  I  been  changin' — a 
bit." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  that,"  remarked  His  Majesty.  "Doubtless 
your  recent  experience  has  helped  you  to  change." 

"Sure,"  replied  Jimmie.  "But  I'm  still  a  Socialist,  don't  you 
make  no  mistake  about  that,  Mr.  King." 

"I  won't/'  said  His  Majesty;  and  he  looked  at  the  Honour- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  SOCIETY  209 

able  Beatrice,  and  between  them  there  flashed  one  of  those 
subtle  messages  which  highly  sophisticated  people  know  how  to 
give  and  to  catch — entirely  over  the  heads  of  Socialist  machin- 
ists from  Leesville,  U.  S.  A.  To  the  Honourable  Beatrice  the 
message  conveyed,  "How  perfectly  delicious !"  To  His  Majesty 
it  conveyed,  "I  knew  you'd  enjoy  it!" 

Jimmie's  mind  was  of  course  occupied  entirely  with  the 
idea  of  propaganda.  He  must  make  the  most  of  this  strange 
opportunity!  "Things  is  goin'  to  be  changed  after  this  here 
war  !"  said  he.  "Fer  the  workin'  people,  I  mean." 

"They'll  be  changed  for  all  of  us,"  said  His  Majesty.  "The 
dullest  of  us  know  that." 

"The  workin'  people  got  to  get  what  they  earn!"  persisted 
Jimmie.  "Why,  Mr.  King — back  home  where  I  come  from  a 
feller  could  work  twelve  hours  a  day  all  his  life,  an'  not  have 
enough  saved  up  to  bury  himself  with.  An'  they  say  it  was 
worse  here  in  England." 

"We  have  had  terrible  poverty,"  admitted  His  Majesty. 
"We  shall  have  to  find  some  way  of  getting  rid  of  it." 

"There  ain't  no  way  but  Socialism !"  cried  Jimmie.  "Look 
into  it,  an'  you'll  see !  We  gotter  get  rid  o'  the  profit-system. 
The  feller  that  does  the  work  has  gotter  get  what  he  produces." 

"Well,"  said  His  Majesty,  "you'll  agree  with  me  this  far  at 
least — we  must  beat  the  Germans  first."  And  then  he  turned 
to  the  Honourable  Beatrice.  "We  shall  learn  much  from  our 
American  visitors,"  he  said,  and  flashed  her  another  of  those 
subtle  messages,  which  indicated  that  perhaps  it  was  not  a  good 
thing  for  patients  in  hospitals  to  become  excited  over  Socialist 
propaganda!  So  the  Honourable  Beatrice  turned  to  the  man 
in  the  other  bed,  and  His  Majesty  turned  also;  he  ascertained 
that  the  man's  name  was  Deakin,  and  that  he  came  from  Cape 
Cod.  His  Majesty  remarked  how  badly  England  needed  good 
Yankee  gun-pointers,  and  how  grateful  he  was  to  those  who  came 
to  help  the  British  navy.  Jimmie  listened,  just  a  tiny  bit  jealous 
— not  for  himself,  of  course,  but  because  he  knew  that  Socialism 
was  so  much  more  important  than  gun-pointing ! 


At  the  foot  of  the  bed  there  stood  a  military  officer.     He  had 
been  there  for  some  time,  but  Jimmie  did  not  notice  him  till  the 


210  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

king  arose  and  moved  away.  The  officer  was  just  the  sort  of 
hand-made  aristocrat  that  Jimmie  imagined  all  officers  to  be; 
smooth-shaven,  except  for  a  little  toy  moustache,  with  serene,  im- 
passive features,  a  dapper  and  immaculate  uniform,  and  a  queer 
little  fancy  stick  in  his  hand,  to  show  that  he  never  did  anything 
resembling  work.  He  was  eyeing  the  machinist,  with  what  the 
machinist  suspected  to  be  a  superior  air.  "Well,  my  good  man," 
said  he,  "you  had  a  talk  with  the  king !" 

That  seemed  obvious  enough.    "Sure !"  said  Jimmie. 

"Generally,"  continued  the  officer,  "wFen  one  talks  with  the 
king,  one  addresses  him  as  'Your  Majesty' — not  as  'Mr.  King5." 

Jimmie  was  tired  now,  and  not  looking  for  controversy;  so 
he  did  not  bridle  as  he  might  otherwise  have  done.  "Nobody 
told  me/'  said  he. 

"Also,"  continued  the  other,  "one  is  not  supposed  to  volunteer 
opinions.  One  waits  for  the  king  to  ask  a  question,  and  then  one 


answers." 


Jimmie's  eyes  were  closed,  and  he  only  half  opened  them  as 
he  answered.  "They  been  tellin'  me  this  here  is  a  war  for 
Democracy !"  said  he. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

HIGGINS  WORKS  FOR  HIS  UNCLH 


'T1  HEY  gave  Jimmie  Higgins  a  couple  of  days  to  lie  about  on 
*  the  grounds  of  the  hospital,  and  make  the  acquaintance  and 
hear  the  experiences  of  men  who  had  lost  arms  and  legs  in  bat- 
tle, or  had  been  burned  by  flame-throwers,  or  ruined  for  life  by 
poison-gases.  Strange  as  it  might  seem,  Jimmie  found  among 
these  men  not  a  few  with  whom  he  could  talk,  whose  point  of 
view  was  close  to  his  own.  These  Britishers  had  been  through 
the  mill ;  they  knew.  None  of  the  glory  stuff  for  them !  Leave 
that  for  the  newspaper  scribblers,  the  bloody  rascals  who  stayed 
at  home  and  beat  on  tomtoms,  driving  other  men  to  march  in 
and  die.  You  went  and  got  yourself  battered  up,  ruined  for 
life — and  then  what  would  they  do  for  you?  It  was  a  hard 
world  to  a  man  who  was  crippled  and  helpless.  Yes,  said 
Jimmie;  the  same  hard  world  that  it  was  to  a  Socialist,  a 
dreamer  of  justice. 

But  there  was  the  old  dilemma,  from  which  he  had  never 
been  able  to  find  escape,  whether  in  Leesville,  U.  S.  A.,  or  on 
the  high  seas,  or  here  in  old  England.  What  were  you  going  to 
do  about  the  Huns?  To  hold  out  your  hand  to  them  was  like 
putting  it  into  a  tiger's  cage.  No,  by  God,  you  had  to  fight 
them,  you  had  to  lick  them,  cost  what  it  might!  And  the 
speaker  would  go  on  and  tell  of  things  he  had  seen :  a  Prussian 
officer  who  had  shot  a  British  surgeon  in  the  back,  after  this 
surgeon  had  bound  up  his  wounds;  a  commandant  of  a  prison- 
camp  who  had  withdrawn  all  medical  aid  in  a  typhus-epidemic, 
and  allowed  his  charges  to  perish  like  rats. 

So,  hell  though  it  was,  you  had  to  go  through  with  it ;  if  you 
were  a  man,  you  had  to  set  your  teeth  and  grip  your  hands  and 
take  your  share  of  the  horror,  whatever  it  might  be.  And 
Jimmie,  being  something  of  a  little  man  in  his  way,  would  set 

211 


212  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

his  teeth  and  grip  his  hands  and  take,  in  imagination,  the  share 
of  the  particular  human  wreck  who  happened  to  be  talking  to 
him.  So  Jimmie  Higgins  was  battered  back  and  forth,  like  a 
tennis-ball  between  the  two  forces  of  Militarism  and  Eevolution. 
Just  now  was  another  crisis — the  Huns  had  begun  a  furious 
drive  in  Flanders,  the  third  battle  of  Ypres,  and  the  British 
were  falling  back,  not  in  rout,  but  in  retreat  which  might  be- 
come rout  at  any  hour.  The  bulletins  came  in  several  times 
a  day,  and  people  on  the  streets  would  stop  and  read  them,  their 
faces  full  of  fear.  When  the  wind  was  right  you  could  hear 
the  guns  across  the  channel;  Jimmie  would  lie  at  night  and 
listen  to  the  dull,  incessant  thunder — a  terrific,  man-made  storm, 
in  which  showers  of  steel  were  raining  down  upon  the  heads  of 
soldiers  hiding  in  shell-holes  and  hastily  dug  trenches.  The 
war  seemed  very  near  indeed  when  the  wind  was  right ! 


ii 

Still,  a  fellow  has  to  live.  Jimmie  was  in  a  foreign  land 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  and  when  they  turned  him  loose, 
he  and  a  couple  of  other  American  chaps  went  wandering  about 
the  streets,  staring  at  the  sights  of  this  town,  which  had  been  a 
small  harbour  before  the  war,  but  now  was  a  vast  centre  of  the 
world's  commerce,  one  of  the  routes  by  which  large  sections  of 
Britain  were  moved  across  the  channel  every  day. 

You  saw  on  the  streets  no  men  out  of  uniform,  except  a  few 
old  ones ;  you  saw  nobody  at  all  idle,  except  the  young  children. 
The  women  were  driving  the  trucks,  and  operating  the  street- 
cars, which  were  called  "trams,"  and  the  elevators,  which  were 
called  "lifts."  Everybody's  face  was  sober  and  drawn,  but  they 
lightened  up  when  they  saw  the  Americans,  who  had  come  so 
far  to  help  them  in  their  trouble.  In  the  cake-shops,  and  the 
queer  little  "pubs"  where  rosy-cheeked  girls  sold  very  thin  beer, 
they  could  not  be  polite  enough  to  the  visitors  from  over-seas; 
even  the  haughtiest-looking  "bobby"  would  stop  to  tell  you  the 
way  about  the  streets.  "First  to  the  roight,  third  to  the  left,"  he 
would  say,  very  fast ;  and  when  you  looked  bewildered,  he  would 
say  it  again,  as  fast  as  ever. 

But  they  needed  motor-cycles  so  badly  in  the  new  American 
armies  that  they  didn't  give  Jimmie  much  time  to  be  a  hero; 
he  got  his  orders,  and  a  new  outfit,  and  bade  farewell  to  the 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WORKS  FOR  HIS  UNCLE     213 

Honourable  Beatrice,  promising  to  write  to  her  now  and  then, 
and  not  to  be  too  hard  on  the  aristocracy.  He  crossed  the  chan- 
nel, alive  with  boats  like  the  Hudson  River  with  its  ferries, 
and  came  to  another  and  still  bigger  port,  which  the  Americans 
had  taken  and  made  over  new  for  the  war.  Long  vistas  of  docks 
had  been  built  since  the  fighting  began ;  Jimmie  saw  huge  cranes 
that  dipped  down  into  the  hold  of  a  ship,  and  pulled  out  whole 
locomotives,  or  maybe  half  a  dozen  automobile  trucks  in  one 
swoop.  Behind  these  docks  was  a  tangle  of  railroad-yards  and 
tracks,  and  miles  upon  miles  of  sheds,  piled  to  the  top  with 
stores  of  every  sort  you  could  imagine.  A  whole  encampment- 
city  covered  the  surrounding  hills,  crowned  by  an  old,  creaking, 
moss-grown  windmill — the  Middle  Ages  looking  in  dismay  upon 
these  modern  times. 

Nobody  took  the  trouble  to  invite  Jimmie  to  inspect  these 
marvels,  but  he  got  glimpses  here  and  there,  and  men  with 
whom  he  chatted  told  him  more.  One  man  had  been  directing 
the  unloading  of  canned  tomatoes;  for  six  months  he  had  seen 
nothing  but  crates  upon  crates  and  car-loads  upon  car-loads  of 
canned  tomatoes,  coming  into  one  end  of  a  shed  and  going  out 
at  the  other.  Somewhere  in  the  higher  regions  dwelt  a  mar- 
vellous tomato-brain,  which  knew  exactly  how  many  cans  a 
division  of  dough-boys  in  a  training-camp  would  consume  each 
day,  how  many  would  be  needed  by  patients  in  hospitals,  by 
lumbermen  in  French  forests,  by  revellers  in  Y.  M.  C.  A.  huts. 
Every  now  and  then  a  ship  brought  another  supply,  and  the 
man  who  told  Jimmie  about  it  bossed  a  gang  of  negroes  who 
piled  the  crates  on  trucks. 

And  then  Jimmie  met  a  Frenchman,  who  had  been  a  waiter 
in  a  Chicago  hotel,  and  now  was  bossing  a  gang  of  wire-haired 
Korean  labourers.  Jimmie  had  thought  he  knew  all  the  races 
of  the  earth  in  the  shops  and  mills  and  mines  of  America;  but 
here  he  heard  of  new  kinds  of  men — Annamese  and  Siamese, 
Paythans  and  Sikhs,  Madagascans  and  Abyssinians  and  Alge- 
rians. All  the  British  empire  was  here,  and  all  the  French 
colonies.  There  were  Portuguese  and  Brazilians  and  West  In- 
dians, bushmen  from  Australia  and  Zulus  from  South  Africa; 
and  these  not  having  proven  enough;  America  was  now  pouring 
out  the  partly  melted  contents  of  her  pot — Hawaiians  and  Porto 
Ricans,  Filipinos  and  "spiggoties,"  Esquimaux  from  Alaska, 
Chinamen  from  San  Francisco,  Sioux  from  Dakota,  and  plain 


214  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

black  plantation  niggers  from  Louisiana  and  Alabama !  Jimmie 
saw  a  gang  of  these  latter  mending  a  track  which  had  been  blown 
out  of  place  by  a  bomb  from  an  aeroplane ;  their  black  skins  shin- 
ing with  sweat,  their  white  teeth  shining  with  good-nature  as 
they  swung  their  heavy  crow-bars,  a  long  row  of  them  moving 
like  a  machine,  chanting  to  keep  in  unison.  "Altogether- 
heave!"  the  officer  would  call,  and  the  line  would  swing  intc 
motion 

"Get  a  mule 

An'  a  jack! 

No  slow, 

No  slack! 

Put  the  hump 

In  yo'  back " 

III 

For  nearly  four  years  Jimmie  had  been  reading  about 
France,  and  now  he  was  here,  and  could  see  the  sights  with  his 
own  eyes.  People  with  wooden  shoes,  for  example!  It  was 
worth  coming  across  the  seas  to  see  women  and  kids  going 
clatter,  clatter  along  the  cobbled  streets.  And  the  funny  little 
railroad-coaches,  with  rows  of  doors  like  rabbit-pens.  It  was 
a  satisfaction  to  notice  that  the  train  had  a  real  man-sized  engine, 
with  U.  S.  A.  painted  thereon.  Jimmie  owned  a  share  in  that 
engine,  and  experienced  socialistic  thrills  as  he  rode  behind  it. 

He  had  got  separated  from  his  "unit,"  thanks  to  the  sub- 
marine and  the  sojourn  in  the  hospital.  They  had  given  him 
a  pass,  with  orders  to  proceed  to  a  certain  town,  travelling  on  a 
certain  train.  Now  Jimmie  sat  looking  out  of  the  window,  as 
happy  as  a  boy  out  of  school.  A  beautiful  country,  the  fresh 
green  glory  of  spring  everywhere  upon  it;  broad,  straight  mili- 
tary highways  lined  with  poplars,  and  stone  houses  with  queer 
steep  roofs,  and  old  men  and  women  and  children  toiling  in  the 
fields. 

Jimmie  chattered  with  the  men  in  the  compartment,  sol- 
diers and  workers,  each  a  cog  in  the  big  machine,  each  bound 
upon  some  important  errand.  Each  had  news  to  tell — tales 
of  the  fighting,  or  of  the  progress  of  preparation.  For  more  than 
a  year  now  America  had  been  getting  ready,  and  here,  in  the 
most  desperate  crisis  of  the  war,  what  was  she  going  to  do? 
Everybody  was  on  tip-toe  with  excitement,  with  impatience  to 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WORKS  FOR  HIS  UNCLE     215 

get  into  the  scrap,  to  make  good  in  the  work  upon  which  his 
soul  was  set.  Every  man  knew  that  the  "dough-boys"  would 
show  themselves  the  masters  of  "Fritz" ;  they  knew  it  as  religious 
people  know  there  is  a  God  in  Heaven — only,  unlike  most  re- 
ligious people,  they  were  anxious  to  get  to  this  heaven  and  meet 
this  God  at  the  earliest  possible  moment.  Next  to  Jimmie  sat  a 
Wisconsin  farmer-boy,  German  in  features,  in  name,  even  in 
accent;  yet  he  was  ready  to  fight  the  soldiers  of  the  Kaiser — 
and  quite  sure  he  could  lick  them!  Had  he  not  lived  since 
childhood  in  a  free  country,  and  been  to  an  American  public- 
school  ? 

Everybody  had  funny  stories  to  tell  about  the  adventures 
of  soldiers  in  a  foreign  land.  The  French  were  all  right,  of 
course,  especially  the  girls;  but  the  shop-keepers  were  frugal, 
and  you  had  better  count  your  change,  and  bite  the  coins  they 
offered  you.  As  for  their  language — holy  smoke!  Why  did  a 
civilised  people  want  to  talk  a  lingo  that  made  you  grunt  like 
a  pig — or  like  a  penf ul  of  pigs  of  all  sizes  ?  Across  the  way  sat 
a  Chicago  street-car  conductor  with  a  little  lesson-book,  and  now 
and  then  he  would  read  something  out  loud.  An,  in,  on,  un, 
that  many  different  sizes  of  pigs !  When  you  wanted  bread,  you 
asked  for  a  pain,  and  when  you  wanted  a  dish  of  eggs,  you  asked 
for  a  cat-roof  omelette.  How  was  this  for  a  tongue-twister — 
Bay  five  hundred  and  fifty-five  francs  in  French ! 

Fortunately,  you  didn't  have  to  say  that  many — not  on  the 
pay  of  a  dough-boy,  put  in  a  plumber  from  up-state  in  New 
York.  For  his  part,  he  did  not  bother  to  grunt — he  would  make 
drinking  motions  or  eating  motions,  and  they  would  bring  him 
things  till  they  found  what  he  wanted.  One  time  he  had  met  a 
girl  that  he  thought  was  all  right,  and  he  wanted  to  blow  her  to 
a  feed,  so  he  drew  a  picture  of  a  chicken,  thinking  he  would 
get  it  roasted.  She  had  chattered  away  to  the  waiter,  and  he 
had  come  back  with  two  soft-boiled  eggs.  That  was  the  French 
notion  of  taking  a  girl  out  to  dinner ! 

IV 

They  loaded  Jimmie  into  a  motor-lorry  and  whirled  him 
away.  You  knew  you  were  going  to  war  then,  by  heck;  there 
were  two  almost  solid  processions  of  wagons  and  trucks,  loaded 
with  French  soldiers  and  materials  going,  and  damaged  French 


216  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

soldiers  returning.  It  was  like  Broadway  at  the  most  crowded 
hour ;  only  here  everything  went  by  in  a  whirl  of  dust — you  got 
quick  glimpses  of  drivers  with  tense  faces  and  blood-shot  eyes. 
Now  and  then  there  would  be  a  blockade,  and  men  would  swear 
and  fume  in  mixed  languages ;  staff-cars  in  an  extra  hurry  would 
go  off  the  road  and  bump  along  across  country,  while  gangs  of 
negro  labourers,  French  colonials,  seized  the  opportunity  to  fill 
up  the  ruts  worn  in  the  highway. 

They  put  Jimmie  off  at  a  village  where  his  motor-unit  was 
located,  in  a  long  shed  made  of  corrugated  iron,  the  sort  of  shed 
which  the  army  threw  up  over  night.  Here  were  a  score  of 
men  working  at  repairs,  and  Jimmie  stopped  for  no  formalities, 
but  took  off  his  coat  and  pitched  in.  There  was  plenty  of 
work,  he  could  see;  the  machines  came,  sometimes  whole  truck- 
loads  of  them,  damaged  in  every  way  he  had  ever  seen  before, 
and  in  new  ways  not  dreamed  of  in  Kumme's  bicycle-shop — tires 
torn  to  shreds  by  fragments  of  shrapnel,  frames  twisted  out  of 
shape  by  explosions,  and  nasty  splotches  of  blood  completing  the 
story. 

It  was  one  of  the  many  places  where  American  units  had 
been  taken  to  plug  the  damaged  French  lines.  There  was  a 
reserve  battalion  nearby,  and  outside  this  village  a  group  of  men 
at  work,  putting  up  tents  for  a  hospital.  Some  thirty  miles 
ahead  was  the  front,  and  you  heard  the  guns  off  and  on,  a  low 
sullen  roar,  punctuated  with  hammer-strokes  of  big  fellows. 
Millions  of  dollars  every  hour  were  being  blown  to  nothingness 
in  that  fearful  inferno;  a  gigantic  meat-mill  that  was  grinding 
up  the  bodies  of  men,  and  had  never  ceased  day  or  night  for 
nearly  four  years.  You  could  be  a  violent  pacifist  in  sound  of 
those  guns,  or  you  could  be  a  violent  militarist,  but  you  could  not 
be  indifferent  to  the  war,  you  could  not  be  of  two  minds  about  it. 

And  yet — Jimmie  Higgins  was  of  two  minds!  He  wanted 
to  beat  back  the  Huns,  who  had  made  all  this  fearful  mess ;  but 
also  he  wanted  to  beat  the  profiteers  who  were  making  messes 
at  home.  It  happened  that  Jimmie  had  reached  the  army  at  a 
trying  moment,  when  there  were  no  American  big  guns,  and 
when  promises  of  machine-guns  and  aeroplanes  had  failed. 
There  was  wild  excitement  in  the  home  papers,  and  not  a  little 
grumbling  in  the  army.  It  was  graft  and  politics,  men  said; 
and  Jimmie  caught  eagerly  at  this  idea.  He  pointed  out  how 
the  profiteers  at  home  were  intrenching  themselves,  making 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WORKS  FOR  HIS  UNCLE     217 

ready  to  exploit  the  soldiers  returning  without  jobs.  That  was 
a  line  of  talk  the  men  were  ready  for,  and  the  little  machinist 
rejoiced  to  see  the  grim  look  that  come  upon  their  faces.  They 
would  attend  to  it,  never  fear;  and  Jimmie  would  go  on  to  tell 
them  exactly  how  to  attend  to  it ! 


But  that  was  only  now  and  then,  when  the  wind  was  the 
other  way,  and  you  did  not  hear  the  guns.  For  the  most  part 
Jimmie's  thoughts  were  drawn  irresistibly  to  the  front;  about 
him  were  thousands  of  other  men,  all  their  thoughts  at  the 
front,  their  hands  clenched,  their  teeth  set,  their  beings  centred 
upon  the  job  of  holding  the  Beast  at  bay.  Jimmie  saw  the  grey 
ambulances  come  in,  and  the  wounded  lifted  out  on  stretchers, 
their  heads  bandaged,  their  bodies  covered  with  sheets,  their 
faces  a  ghastly  waxen  colour.  He  saw  the  poilus,  fresh  from  the 
trenches,  after  God  alone  knew  what  siege  of  terror.  They  came 
staggering,  bent  double  under  a  burden  of  equipment.  The  first 
time  Jimmie  saw  them  was  a  day  of  ceaseless  rain,  when  the  dust 
ground  up  by  the  big  lorries  was  turned  into  ankle-deep  mud; 
the  Frenchmen  were  plastered  with  it  from  head  to  foot ;  you  saw 
under  their  steel  helmets  only  a  mud-spattered  beard,  and  the 
end  of  a  nose,  and  a  pair  of  deep-sunken  eyes.  They  stopped  to 
rest  not  far  from  the  place  where  Jimmie  worked;  they  sank 
down  in  the  wet,  they  fell  asleep  in  pools  of  water,  where  not 
even  beasts  could  have  slept.  You  did  not  have  to  know  any 
French  to  understand  what  these  men  had  been  through.  Good 
God !  Was  that  what  was  going  on  up  there  ? 

Jimmie  thanked  his  stars  he  was  no  nearer.  But  that 
coward's  comfort  did  not  last  him  long,  for  Jimmie  was  not  a 
coward,  he  was  not  used  to  letting  other  men  struggle  and 
suffer  for  him.  His  conscience  began  to  gnaw  at  him.  If  that 
was  what  it  cost  to  beat  down  the  Beast,  to  make  the  world  safe 
for  democracy,  why  should  he  be  escaping?  Why  should  he  be 
warm  and  dry  and  well  fed,  while  workingmen  of  France  lay  out 
in  the  trenches  in  the  rain  ? 

Jimmie  went  back  and  worked  overtime  without  extra  pay — 
something  that  old  man  Granitch  had  never  got  out  of  him, 
you  bet,  nor  old  man  Kumme  either.  For  three  whole  days 
he  stayed  a  militarist,  forgetting  his  life-long  training  in  re- 


218  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

bellion.  But  then  he  got  into  an  argument  with  a  red-headed 
Orangeman  in  his  unit,  who  expressed  the  opinion  that  every 
Socialist  was  a  traitor  at  heart,  and  that  after  the  war  the  army 
should  be  used  to  make  an  end  of  them  all.  Jimmie  in  his  rage 
went  farther  than  he  really  meant,  and  again  got  a  "calling 
down"  from  his  superior  officer:  so  for  several  days  his  pro- 
letarian feelings  blazed,  he  wanted  the  revolution  right  away, 
Huns  or  no  Huns. 


VI 

But  most  of  the  time  now  the  spirit  of  the  herd  mastered 
Jimmie;  he  wanted  what  all  the  men  about  him  wanted — to 
hold  back  the  Beast  from  these  fair  French  fields  and  quaint 
old  villages,  and  these  American  hospitals  and  rest-camps  and 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  huts — to  say  nothing  of  motor-cycle  repair-sheds 
with  Jimmie  Higgins  in  them!  And  the  trouble  was  that  the 
Beast  was  not  being  held  back;  he  was  coming  nearer  and 
nearer — one  bull  rush  after  another !  Jimmie's  village  was  near 
the  valley  of  the  Marne,  and  that  was  the  road  to  Paris;  the 
Beast  wanted  to  get  to  Paris,  he  really  expected  to  get  to  Paris ! 

The  sound  of  guns  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  rumour 
flew  wild-eyed  and  wild-tongued  about  the  country.  The  traffic 
in  the  roads  grew  denser,  but  moving  more  slowly  now,  for  the 
Germans  were  shelling  the  road  ahead,  and  blockades  were  fre- 
quent; one  huge  missile  had  fallen  into  a  French  artillery-train 
only  a  couple  of  miles  away.  "They'll  be  moving  us  back,  if 
this  keeps  up,"  said  Jimmie's  sergeant ;  and  Jimmie  wondered : 
suppose  they  didn't  move  them !  Suppose  they  forgot  all  about 
it!  Was  there  any  person  whose  particular  duty  it  was  to 
remember  to  see  that  motor-cycle  units  got  moved  in  the  precise 
nick  of  time  ?  And  what  if  the  Germans  were  to  break  through 
and  sweep  over  all  calculations?  This  was  a  little  more  than 
Jimmie  Higgins  had  bargained  for  when  he  entered  the  re- 
cruiting-office in  Leesville,  IT.  S.  A. ! 

They  gave  out  gas-masks  to  every  one  in  Jimmie's  unit, 
and  put  an  alarm-bell  in  the  shed,  and  made  everybody  practise 
putting  on  the  masks  in  a  hurry.  Jimmie  was  so  scared  that 
he  thought  seriously  of  running  away ;  but — such  is  the  perversity 
of  human  nature — what  he  did  was  to  run  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion! His  officer  in  command  came  into  the  shed  and  de- 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  WORKS  FOB  HIS  UNCLE     219 

*nanded,  "Can  any  of  you  men  ride?"  And  imagine  any  fel- 
low who  worked  at  repairing  motor-cycles  admitting  that  he 
couldn't  ride!  "I  can!"  said  Jimmie.  "I  can!"  said  every 
other  workman  in  the  place. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Jimmie — always  of  the  forward  and 
pushing  sort. 

"The  French  ask  for  half  a  dozen  men  in  a  rush.  They've 
had  several  motor-cycle  units  wiped  out  or  captured." 

"Gee!"  said  Jimmie.     "I'll  go!" 

"And  me!"  said  another.     "And  me!"    "And  me!" 

"All  right,"  said  the  officer,  and  told  them  off:  "You  and 
you  and  you.  And  you,  Cullen,  take  command.  Eeport  to 
French  headquarters  at  Chatty  Terry.  You  know  where  it  is !" 

"Sure  Mike !"  said  Cullen.  "I  been  there."  Jimmie  hadn't 
been  to  "Chatty  Terry,"  but  he  knew  it  was  somewheres  across 
the  Marne.  The  officer  gave  him  a  map,  showing  the  villages 
through  which  he  would  go.  Jimmie  and  his  companions 
named  these  villages,  using  sensible  language,  without  conces- 
sion to  the  fool  notions  of  the  natives.  Wipers,  Eeems,  Ver- 
doon,  Devil  Wood,  Arm-in-tears,  Saint  Meal — all  these  Jimmie 
had  heard  about ;  also  a  place  where  the  Americans  had  won  their 
first  glorious  victory  a  week  ago,  and  which  they  called,  some- 
times Cantinny,  sometimes  Tincanny.  And  now  Jimmie  was 
going  to  "Chatty  Terry,"  in  charge  of  a  red-headed  Orange- 
man who  a  few  days  ago  had  expressed  the  opinion  that  all 
Socialists  were  traitors  and  should  be  shot! 

The  officer  gave  them  passes,  one  for  each  man,  in  case  they 
got  separated,  and  they  started  towards  the  place  where  the  new 
machines  were  lined  up.  On  the  way  Jimmie  had  a  moment  of 
utter  panic.  What  was  this  he  was  getting  himself  in  for, 
idiot  that  he  was  ?  Going  up  there  where  the  shells  were  falling, 
wiping  out  motor-cycle  units!  And  shells  that  were  full  of 
poison  gases,  most  of  them!  Of  all  the  fool  things  he  had 
done  in  his  life,  this  was  the  crown  and  climax!  His  knees 
began  to  shake,  he  turned  sick  inside.  But  then  he  glanced 
about,  and  caught  Pat  Cullen's  menacing  blue  eye;  Jimmie  re- 
turned the  glare,  and  the  spirit  of  battle  flamed  up  in  him,  he 
laid  hold  of  the  handles  of  a  motor-cycle  and  strode  towards  the 
door.  Was  any  Irish  mick  going  to  catch  him  in  a  funk,  and 
"bawl  him  out"  before  this  crowd,  and  put  the  Socialist  move- 
ment to  shame?  Not  much! 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  HUN 


six  motor-cyclists  leaped  onto  their  machines  and  went 
chugging  down  the  road.  Of  course  they  raced  one  another ; 
all  motor-cyclists  always  race — and  here  was  the  best  of  all 
possible  excuses,  the  French  army  in  dire  need  of  them,  several 
of  its  precious  cycle-units  wiped  out  or  captured!  They  tore 
along,  dodging  in  and  out  between  trucks  and  automobiles, 
ambulances  and  artillery  caissons,  horse-wagons  ajnd  mule- 
wagons,  achieving  again  and  again  those  hair's-breadth  escapes 
which  are  the  joy  in  life  of  every  normal  motor-cyclist.  Now 
and  then,  when  things  were  too  slow,  they  would  try  a  crawl 
in  the  ditches,  or  push  their  machines  over  the  ploughed  fields. 
So  it  happened  that  Jimmie  found  himself  competing  with  his 
red-headed  Irish  enemy;  there  was  a  narrow  opening  between 
two  stalled  vehicles,  and  Jimmie  made  it  by  the  width  of  his 
hand,  and  vaulted  onto  his  machine  and  darted  away,  free  and 
exulting — his  own  boss !  He  shoved  in  the  juice  and  made  time, 
you  bet;  no  "mick"  was  going  to  catch  up  and  shout  orders  at 
him! 

There  were  long  trains  of  refugees  streaming  back  from  the 
battle-fields;  pitiful  peasant-people  with  horse-carts  and  dog- 
carts and  even  wheel-barrows,  toothless  old  men  and  women 
trudging  alongside,  children  and  babies  stuck  in  amidst  bed- 
ding and  furniture  and  sauce-pans  and  bird-cages.  This  was 
war,  as  the  common  people  saw  it;  but  Jimmie  could  not  stop 
now  to  think  about  it — Jimmie  was  on  his  way  to  the  front. 
There  were  big  observation  balloons  up  over  his  head,  looking 
like  huge  grey  elephants  with  broad  ears;  there  were  aeroplanes 
whirring  about,  performing  incredible  acrobatic  feats,  and  spray- 
ing each  other  with  showers  of  steel;  but  Jimmie  had  no  time 
for  a  single  glance  at  these  marvels — Jimmie  was  on  his  way 
to  the  front! 

220 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  HUN  221 

He  swept  around  a  curve,  and  there  directly  in  front  of 
him  was  a  hole  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  as  big  as  if  a  steam- 
shovel  had  been  working  for  a  week.  Jimmie  clapped  on  the 
brakes,  and  swerved  side-ways,  missing  a  tree  and  plunging  into 
a  cabbage-patch.  He  got  off  and  said,  Gee!  once  or  twice; 
and  suddenly  it  was  as  if  he  were  whacked  on  the  side  of  the 
ear  with  a  twelve-inch  board — the  whole  world  about  him  turned 
into  a  vast  roar  of  sound,  and  a  mountain  of  grey  smoke  leaped 
into  being  in  front  of  him.  Jimmie  stared,  and  saw  out  of  a 
little  clump  of  bushes  a  long  black  object  thrust  itself  out,  like  the 
snout  of  a  gigantic  tapir  from  some  prehistoric  age.  It  was  a 
ten-inch  gun,  coming  back  from  its  recoil;  and  Jimmie,  smell- 
ing its  fumes,  struggled  back  to  the  road  with  his  machine, 
before  the  monster  should  speak  again  and  stifle  him  entirely. 

There  was  a  frame  house  in  the  distance,  and  in  front  of  it 
a  barnyard,  and  sheds  with  thatched  roofs.  There  came  a 
scream,  exactly  like  the  siren  of  Hook  and  Ladder  Company 
Number  One  that  used  to  go  tearing  about  the  streets  in  Lees- 
ville,  U.  S.  A.;  a  light  flashed  in  one  of  the  sheds,  and  every- 
thing disappeared  in  a  burst  of  smoke,  which  spread  itself  in 
the  air  like  a  huge  duster  made  from  turkey-feathers.  There 
came  another  shriek,  a  little  nearer,  and  the  ground  rose  in  a 
huge  black  mushroom,  which  boiled  and  writhed  like  the  clouds 
of  an  advancing  thunderstorm.  Boom !  Boom !  Two  vast,  all- 
pervading  roars  came  to  Jimmie's  ears;  and  his  knees  began  to 
quake.  By  heck !  He  was  under  fire !  He  looked  ahead ;  there 
must  be  Germans  just  up  there !  Was  a  fellow  supposed  to  ride 
on  without  knowing? 

There  was  a  big  battle  on,  that  much,  was  certain ;  but  the 
uproar  was  so  distributed  that  one  could  hardly  tell  whether  it 
was  in  front  or  behind.  However,  the  transport  was  steadily 
advancing — horse-wagons,  mule-wagons,  motor-wagons,  all  plod- 
ding patiently,  paying  no  heed  to  the  shellbursts.  And  then 
Jimmie  took  a  look  behind,  and  saw  that  infernal  red-headed 
Orangeman!  He  imagined  a  raucous  voice,  shouting:  "C'mon 
here!  Whatcher  waiten'  fer?"  Jimmie  bounced  onto  his  ma- 
chine and  turned  her  loose ! 

He  came  to  a  place  where  something  had  hit  a  load  of  am- 
munition, and  there  were  pieces  of  a  wagon  and  a  driver 
scattered  about;  it  was  a  horrible  mess,  but  Jimmie  passed  it 
without  much  emotion — his  whole  soul  was  centred  on  beating 


222  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Pat  Cullen  into  "Chatty  Terry" !  He  came  to  the  outskirts  of  a 
village,  and  there  was  a  peasant's  cottage  with  the  roof  blown 
off,  and  a  smell  fresh  out  of  the  infernal  regions,  and  a  terrified 
old  woman  standing  by  the  road-side  with  two  terrified  chil- 
dren clinging  to  her  skirts.  Jimmie  stopped  his  machine  and 
shouted :  "Chatty  Terry  ?"  When  the  old  woman  did  not  answer 
quickly,  he  shouted  again:  "Chatty  Terry?  Chatty  Terry? 
Don't  you  understand  French  ?  Chatty  Terry  ?"  The  old  wom- 
an apparently  did  not  understand  French. 

He  rode  up  the  street  of  the  village,  and  came  to  a  military 
policeman  directing  traffic  at  a  crossing.  This  fellow  under- 
stood English,  and  said :  "Chatty  Terry  ?  Eet  ees  taken !"  And 
when  Jimmie  stood  dismayed,  wondering  what  he  was  to  do 
now,  the  policeman  told  him  that  headquarters  had  been  shifted 
to  this  village — it  was  in  the  chateau;  he  did  not  say  "chatty/' 
so  Jimmie  did  not  understand  his  kind  of  English.  But  Jimmie 
rode  as  directed,  and  came  to  a  place  with  iron  gates  in  front, 
and  a  big  garden,  and  a  sentry  in  front,  and  a  bustle  of  coming 
and  going,  so  he  knew  that  he  had  reached  his  destination,  and 
had  beaten  his  Irish  enemy ! 


II 

Jimmie's  pass  was  in  duplicate  French  and  English,  so  the 
sentry  could  read  it,  and  signed  him  to  pass  in.  At  the  door 
of  the  chateau  he  showed  the  paper  again,  and  a  French  officer 
in  the  hall-way  espied  him,  and  exclaimed,  "A  cyclist?  Mon 
dieu !"  He  half  ran  Jimmie  into  another  room,  where  another 
officer  sat  at  a  big  table  with  a  chart  spread  out  on  it,  and 
innumerable  filing  cabinets  on  the  walls.  "Un  courier  Aineri- 
cain !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Only  one  ?"  asked  the  officer,  in  English. 

"Five  more's  comin',"  said  Jimmie  quickly.  He  hated  Pat 
Cullen  like  the  devil,  but  he  wouldn't  have  any  French  officer 
think  that  Pat  would  lie  down  on  his  job.  "The  road's  cut 

up,  an'  there's  lots  o'  traffic.    I  come  as  fast " 

"See !"  interrupted  the  officer — not  quite  as  polite  as  French- 
men are  supposed  to  be.  "This  packet  contains  maps,  which 
we  make  from  aeroplane-photographs — you  comprehend?  It  is 
for  the  artillerist " 

The  officer  paused  for  a  moment;  there  came  a  deafening 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  HUK          223 

crash  outside,  and  the  window  of  the  room  collapsed,  and 
something  grazed  Jimmie's  face. 

"Viola!"  remarked  the  officer.  "The  enemy  draws  nearer. 
Our  wires  are  cut;  we  send  couriers,  but  they  perhaps  do  not 
arrive ;  it  needs  that  we  send  many — what  you  say  ? — duplicates. 
You  comprehend  ?" 

"Sure!"  said  Jimmie. 

"It  is  most  urgent ;  the  battle  depends  upon  it — the  war,  it 
may  be.  You  comprehend?" 

"Sure !"  said  Jimmie  again. 

"You  are  brave,  mon  garc,on?" 

Jimmie  did  not  reply  so  promptly  to  that;  but  the  officer 
was  too  tactful  to  wait.  Instead  he  asked,  "You  know  French  ?" 
And  when  Jimmie  shook  his  head:  "It  needs  that  you  learn. 
Say  this:  Botteree  Normb  Cott.  Try  it,  if  it  pleases  you: 
Botteree  Normb  Cott." 

Jimmie,  stammering  like  a  schoolboy,  tried :  the  officer 
made  him  repeat  the  sounds,  assuring  him  gravely  that  he  need 
have  no  doubts  whatever ;  if  he  would  make  those  precise  sounds, 
any  Frenchmen  would  know  what  he  was  looking  for.  He  was 
to  take  the  main  road  east  from  the  village  and  ride  till  he 
came  to  a  fork;  then  he  was  to  bear  to  the  right,  and  when  he 
came  to  the  edge  of  a  dense  wood,  he  was  to  take  the  path  to 
the  left,  and  then  say  to  everybody  he  met:  "Botteree  Normb 
Cott!" 

"Is  it  that  you  have  a  weapon  ?"  inquired  the  officer ;  and 
when  Jimmie  answered  no,  he  pressed  a  button,  and  spoke 
quick  words  to  an  orderly,  who  came  running  with  an  automatic 
revolver  and  a  belt,  which  Jimmie  proceeded  to  strap  upon  him, 
with  thrills,  half  of  delighted  pride  and  half  of  anguished  ter- 
ror. "You  will  say  to  the  men  of  the  botteree  that  the  Ameri- 
cans come  soon  to  the  rescue.  You  will  find  them,  my  brave 
American?"  The  officer  spoke  as  if  to  a  son  whom  he  dearly 
loved;  and  Jimmie,  who  had  never  received  an  order  in  that 
tone  of  voice,  reciprocated  the  affection,  and  clenched  his  hands 
suddenly  and  answered,  "Fll  do  my  best,  sir."  He  turned  to 
leave  the  room,  when  whom  should  he  see  coming  in — Mike 
Cullen !  Jimmie  gave  him  a  wink  and  a  grin,  and  hustled  out- 
side and  leaped  upon  his  machine. 


224  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 


m 

And  now  here  was  the  little  machinist  from  Leesville,  U.  S. 
A.,  flying  down  the  battered  street  of  this  French  village  with 
something  like  a  mid-western  cyclone  going  on  in  his  head. 
They  say  that  a  drowning  man  remembers  everything  that  ever 
happened  in  his  life ;  perhaps  that  was  not  trne  of  Jimmie,  but 
certainly  he  remembered  every  pacifist  argument  he  had  ever 
heard  in  his  life.  For  the  love  of  Mike,  what  was  this  he  had  let 
himself  in  for?  Bound  for  the  spot  where  the  whole  German 
army  was  trying  to  break  through — upon  an  errand  the  most 
dangerous  of  any  in  the  war !  How  in  the  name  of  Karl  Marx 
and  the  whole  revolutionary  hierarchy  had  he  managed  to  get 
himself  into  such  a  pickle?  He,  Jimmie  Higgins,  Bolshevik 
and  wobbly! 

And  he  was  going  through  with  it !  He  was  going  to  throw 
his  life  away — just  because  he  had  started — because  he  had 
pledged  himself — because  he  was  carrying  maps  which  might 
enable  a  "botteree"  to  win  the  war!  Did  he  really  care  that 
much  about  this  infernal  capitalist  war?  So  cried  out  the 
proletarian  demons  in  the  soul  of  Jimmie  Higgins;  and  mean- 
time the  engine  hammered  and  chugged,  and  a  miraculous  power 
in  the  depths  of  his  subconsciousness  moved  the  handle-bars  so 
that  he  dodged  shell-holes  and  grazed  automobiles. 

The  air  was  full  of  the  scream  of  shells  and  the  clatter  of 
their  bursting,  an  infernal  din  out  of  which  he  could  hardly 
pick  individual  sounds.  The  road  ahead  was  less  crowded;  the 
vehicles  had  left  it,  spreading  out  to  one  side  or  the  other.  How 
much  farther  ahead  was  that  fork  ?  And  suppose  the  Germans 
had  got  there,  and  had  captured  "Botteree  Normb  Cott" — was 
he  going  to  present  them  with  a  brand  new  motor-cycle  in  addi- 
tion? There  were  other  tffbotterees"  which  he  passed;  why 
couldn't  he  give  them  the  maps?  Jimmie  rode  on,  raging  in- 
wardly. If  he  had  been  a  despatch-rider  he  would  have  known 
all  about  this,  but  he  was  only  a  repair-man,  and  they  had  had 
no  business  to  put  such  a  job  off  on  him ! 

There  were  woods  about  him  now,  the  trees  smashed  up  by 
shells,  and  Jimmie  considered  it  the  part  of  prudence  to  get  off 
his  machine  and  steal  forward  and  peer  out  to  see  if  there  were 
Germans  in  the  opening  beyond.  And  suddenly  his  knees  gave 
way,  because  of  the  fright  he  was  in,  with  all  this  deadly  racket. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  HUN          225 

He  became  violently  sick  at  his  stomach,  and  began  to  act  as 
he  had  acted  on  the  first  three  days  of  his  ocean  passage  from 
New  York.  At  the  same  time  all  the  other  functions  of  his 
body  began  to  operate.  A  group  of  Frenchmen  passing  by  burst 
into  hilarious  laughter;  it  was  ridiculous  and  humiliating,  but 
Jimmie  was  powerless  to  help  it — he  wasn't  cut  out  for  a  soldier, 
he  hadn't  agreed  to  be  a  soldier,  they  had  had  no  business 
sending  him  up  here  where  vast  craters  of  shell-holes  were  open- 
ing in  the  ground,  and  whole  trees  were  being  lifted  out  of  the 
earth,  and  the  air  was  full  of  a  stink  which  might  require  a  gas- 
mask or  might  not — how  was  poor  Jimmie  to  tell? 


rv 

He  mastered  the  awful  trembling  of  his  knees  and  the 
grotesque  efforts  of  his  body  to  get  rid  of  everything  inside  him, 
and  got  on  his  machine  again  and  stole  ahead.  He  could  only 
go  a  few  rods  at  a  time,  because  the  road  was  so  cut  up.  Should 
he  leave  the  machine  and  run  for  it  ?  Or  should  he  go  back  and 
tell  them  their  infernal  maps  were  all  wrong,  there  was  no  fork 
in  the  road?  No — for  there  at  last  was  the  fork,  and  after 
Jimmie  had  ridden  and  run  a  hundred  yards  farther,  there  was 
a  wheat-field^  and  a  line  of  woods,  and  at  the  edge  of  it  four 
guns  belching  flame  and  smoke  and  racket.  Jimmie  stood  his 
machine  in  a  ditch  and  went  tearing  across  the  fields,  wild  with 
relief>  because  he  had  found  his  "Botteree  Normb  Cott,"  and 
could  hand  over  his  precious  packet  and  get  out  of  this  mess  as 
fast  as  two  wheels  would  take  him. 

But  to  his  dismay  he  found  that  it  wasn't  the  French  battery, 
it  was  an  American  battery;  the  French  battery  was  farther 
ahead,  and  a  little  to  the  right;  the  officer  gave  directions,  tak- 
ing it  entirely  for  granted  that  Jimmie  would  go  on  to  his  goal. 

But  then  came  another  officer.  "What  have  you  got  there  ?" 
And  when  Jimmie  answered  maps,  he  demanded  them;  he 
seemed  as  greedy  for  maps  as  a  child  for  his  gifts  on  Christmas 
morning.  He  ripped  open  the  packet — what  is  called  "cutting 
red  tape"  in  the  army — and  spread  out  the  papers  and  began 
to  call  out  figures  to  another  officer  who  sat  on  a  camp-stool  at 
a  little  folding  table,  with  many  sheets  of  figures  in  front  of 
him.  This  officer  went  on  noting  down  the  information — and 
the  men  at  the  guns  went  on  shoving  in  shells  and  stepping  back 


226  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

while  the  screaming  messengers  were  hurled  upon  their  way. 
In  the  rear  were  other  men,  wheeling  up  ammunition,  unloading 
one  of  the  big  camions  which  Jimmie  had  been  dodging  on 
the  roads.  It  was  a  regular  factory,  set  up  there  in  the  middle 
of  the  fields,  despatching  destruction  to  the  unseen  foe. 

"We're  having  the  hell  of  a  time,"  remarked  the  officer,  as 
he  folded  up  the  maps  again  and  handed  them  to  Jimmie.  "Our 
wires  have  been  cut  three  times  in  the  last  half  hour,  and  we 
have  to  shoot  blind." 

"Where  are  the  Germans?"  asked  Jimmie. 

"Somewhere  up  ahead  there." 

"Have  you  seen  them  ?" 

"Good  Lord,  no !  We  hope  to  move  before  they're  thaT; 
near!" 

Jimmie  felt  a  bit  reassured  by  the  quiet,  business-like  de- 
meanour of  all  the  men  in  this  death-factory.  If  they  could 
stand  the  racket,  no  doubt  he  could;  only,  they  were  all  to- 
gether, while  he  had  to  go  off  by  himself.  Jimmie  wished  he 
had  enlisted  in  the  artillery ! 

He  shoved  the  maps  into  the  inside  pocket  of  his  jacket, 
and  chased  back  to  his  machine  and  set  out.  He  took  a  side- 
path  as  directed,  and  then  a  wood-road — and  then  he  got  lost. 
That  was  all  there  was  to  it — he  was  hopelessly  lost !  The  path 
didn't  behave  at  all  as  the  one  he  was  looking  for.  It  went 
through  a  long  stretch  of  woods  with  shattered  trees  lying  this 
way  and  that;  then  it  crossed  a  field  of  grain,  and  then  it 
plunged  down  into  a  ravine,  and  climbed  to  the  other  side,  and 
up  a  ridge  and  down  again.  "Hell!"  said  Jimmie  to  himself. 
And  if  you  could  imagine  all  the  noises  in  all  the  boiler-fac- 
tories in  America,  you  would  have  something  less  than  the  racket 
in  that  woods  through  which  Jimmie  was  wandering,  saying 
"Hell!"  to  himself. 


He  got  to  the  top  of  the  ridge,  puffing  and  panting  and 
dripping  perspiration;  and  there  suddenly  he  jumped  from  his 
machine  and  ran  with  it  behind  a  tree-trunk  and  stood  anxiously 
peering  out.  There  were  men  ahead;  and  what  sort  of  men? 
Jimmie  tried  to  remember  the  pictures  of  Germans  he  had 
seen,  and  did  they  look  like  this?  The  air  was  full  of  smoke, 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  HUN  227 

which  made  it  hard  to  decide;  but  gradually  Jimmie  made  out 
one  group,  dragging  a  machine-gun  on  wheels;  they  placed  it 
behind  a  ridge  of  ground,  and  began  to  shoot  in  the  direction 
of  Germany.  So  Jimmie  advanced,  but  with  hesitation,  not 
wanting  to  interfere  with  the  aiming  of  the  gun,  which  was  mak- 
ing a  noise  like  a  rivetting  machine,  only  faster  and  louder. 
It  had  a  big  round  cylinder  for  a  barrel,  and  the  men  were  feed- 
ing it  long  strips  of  cartridges  out  of  a  box,  and  were  so  intent 
on  the  process  that  they  paid  no  attention  whatever  to  Jimmie. 
He  stood  and  stared,  spell-bound.  For  these  creatures  seemed 
not  men,  but  hairy  monsters  out  of  caves — ragged,  plastered 
with  mud,  grimed  and  smoke-blackened,  with  their  faces  drawn, 
their  teeth  shining  like  the  teeth  of  angry  dogs.  Jimmie  for- 
got all  about  the  enemy,  he  saw  only  this  roaring,  flame-vomit- 
ing machine,  and  the  men  who  were  a  part  of  it. 

Suddenly  one  of  the  men  leaped  up,  a  little  hairier  and  a 
little  blacker  than  the  rest,  and  shouted,  "Ah  derry-air!  Ah 
derry-air!"  And  the  gun  stopped  roaring  and  vomiting  flame, 
and  the  men  laid  hold  and  began  to  tug  and  strain  to  draw  it 
back.  The  leader  continued  exhorting  them;  until  suddenly 
an  amazing  thing  happened — right  in  the  midst  of  his  shouting, 
the  whole  of  his  mouth  and  lower  jaw  disappeared.  You  did  not 
see  what  became  of  it — it  just  vanished  into  nothingness,  and 
there  in  the  place  of  it  was  a  red  cavern,  running  blood.  The 
man  stood  with  his  startled  eyes  shining  white  in  his  black  and 
hairy  face,  and  gurgling  noises  coming  out — as  if  he  thought 
he  was  still  shouting,  or  could  if  he  tried  harder. 

The  others  paid  not  the  least  attention  to  this  episode;  they 
continued  tugging  at  the  gun.  And  would  you  believe  it,  the 
man  with  no  mouth  and  jaw  fell  to  helping  again !  The  wheels 
struck  a  rise  in  the  ground,  and  he  waved  his  hands  in  im- 
potent excitement,  and  then  rushed  at  Jimmie,  exposing  to  the 
horrified  little  machinist  the  full  ghastliness  of  that  red  cavern 
running  blood. 

Jimmie  tried  his  magic  formula:  "Botteree  Normb  Cott." 
But  the  man  waved  his  hands  frantically  and  grabbed  Jimmie 
by  the  arm — the  very  incarnation  of  that  Monster  of  Militarism 
which  the  little  machinist  had  been  dodging  for  four  years! 
He  pushed  Jimmie  towards  the  gun,  and  the  other  men  shouted : 
"Asseestay!"  So  of  course  there  was  nothing  for  Jimmie  to 
do  but  lay  hold  and  tug  with  the  rest. 


228  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Presently  they  got  the  wheels  to  moving,  and  rolled  the  thing 
up  the  ridge.  A  wagon  came  bumping  through  the  woods,  and 
the  men  at  the  gun  gave  a  gasp  which  was  meant  to  be  a  cheer, 
and  one  of  them  laid  hold  of  Jimmie  again,  crying:  "Portay! 
Portay !"  He  dragged  out  a  heavy  box  and  loaded  it  into  Jim- 
mie's  arms,  and  carried  another  himself,  and  so  in  a  few  moments 
the  machine-gun  was  drumming,  and  Jimmie  went  on  carrying 
boxes.  The  men  who  were  driving  the  wagon  leaped  upon  the 
horses  and  drove  away;  and  still  Jimmie  carried  boxes,  blindly, 
desperately.  Was  it  because  he  was  afraid  of  the  little  French 
demon  who  was  shouting  at  him  ?  No,  not  exactly,  because  when 
he  went  back  with  a  box  he  saw  the  little  demon  suddenly  double 
up  like  a  jack-knife  and  fall  forward.  He  did  not  make  a 
eound,  he  did  not  even  kick ;  he  lay  with  his  face  in  the  dirt  and 
leaves — and  Jimmie  ran  back  for  another  box. 


VI 

He  did  it  because  he  understood  that  the  Germans  were  com- 
ing. He  had  not  seen  them;  but  when  the  gun  fell  silent  he 
heard  whining  sounds  in  the  air,  as  if  from  a  litter  of  elephan- 
tine puppies.  Sometimes  the  twigs  of  trees  fell  on  him,  the 
dirt  in  front  of  him  flew  up  into  his  face ;  and  always,  of  course, 
everywhere  about  him  was  that  roar  of  bursting  shells  which 
he  had  come  to  accept  as  a  natural  part  of  life.  And  suddenly 
another  man  went  down,  and  another — there  were  only  two  left, 
and  one  of  them  signalled  to  Jimmie  what  to  do,  and  Jimmie 
did  not  say  a  word,  he  just  went  to  work  and  learned  to  run  a 
machine-gun  by  the  method  favoured  by  modern  educators — 
by  doing. 

Presently  the  man  who  was  aiming  the  gun  clapped  his  hand 
to  his  forehead  and  fell  backwards.  Jimmie  was  at  his  side,  and 
the  gun  was  shooting — so  what  more  natural  than  for  Jimmie 
to  move  into  position  and  look  along  the  sights  ?  It  was  a  fact 
that  he  had  never  aimed  any  sort  of  gun  in  his  life  before; 
but  he  was  apt  with  machinery — and  disposed  to  meddle  into 
things,  as  we  know. 

Jimmie  looked  along  the  sights;  and  suddenly  it  seemed  as 
if  the  line  of  distant  woods  leaped  into  life,  the  bushes  vomit- 
ing grey  figures  which  ran  forward,  and  fell  down,  and  then 
leaped  up  and  ran  and  fell  down  again.  "Eel  vienn!"  hissed 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  HUN          229 

the  man  at  Jimmie's  side.  So  Jimmie  moved  the  gun  here  and 
there,  pointing  it  wherever  he  saw  the  grey  figures. 

Did  he  kill  any  Germans?  He  was  never  entirely  sure  in 
his  own  mind;  always  the  idea  pursued  him  that  maybe  he  had 
been  making  a  fool  of  himself,  shooting  bullets  into  the  ground 
or  up  into  the  air — and  the  poilus  at  his  side  thinking  he  must 
know  all  about  it,  because  he  was  one  of  those  wonderful  Ameri- 
cans who  had  come  across  the  seas  to  save  la  belle  France !  The 
Germans  kept  falling,  but  that  proved,  nothing,  for  that  was  the 
method  of  their  advance  anyway,  and  Jimmie  had  no  time  to 
count  and  see  how  many  fell  and  how  many  got  up  again.  All 
he  knew  was  that  they  kept  coming — more  and  more  of  them, 
and  nearer  and  nearer,  and  the  Frenchmen  muttered  curses,  and 
the  gun  hammered  and  roared,  until  the  barrel  grew  so  hot  that 
it  burned.  And  then  suddenly  it  stopped  dead ! 

"Sockray  I"  cried  the  two  Frenchmen,  and  began  frantically 
working  to  take  the  gun  to  pieces ;  but  before  they  had  worked 
a  minute  one  of  them  clapped  his  hand  to  his  side  and  fell  back 
with  a  cry,  and  a  second  later  Jimmie  felt  a  frightful  blow  on 
his  left  arm,  and  when  he  tried  to  lift  it  and  see  what  was 
wrong,  half  of  it  hung  loose,  and  blood  ran  out  of  his  sleeve ! 

VII 

That  was  too  much  for  the  remaining  Frenchman.  He 
caught  Jimmie  by  the  other  arm,  exclaiming,  "Vennay!  Ven- 
nay  I"  Apparently  that  meant  to  run  away ;  Jimmie  didn't  want 
to  run  away,  but  the  Frenchman  chattered  so  fast,  and  tugged 
so  hard,  and  Jimmie  was  half  dazed  anyhow  with  pain,  so  he 
let  himself  be  dragged  back.  And  presently  they  came  to  a 
dead  soldier  lying  with  a  gun  by  his  side,  and  the  Frenchman 
grabbed  the  gun  and  unstrapped  the  cartridge-belt,  and  then 
threw  himself  down  behind  a  big  rock.  Jimmie  remembered 
the  automatic  which  he  had  strapped  at  his  waist;  he  held  it 
out  to  the  Frenchman,  shaking  his  head  and  saying,  "No  savvy ! 
No  work !" — as  if  he  thought  the  Frenchman  would  understand 
bad  English  better  than  good  English!  But  the  Frenchman 
understood  the  head-shaking,  and  showed  Jimmie  how  to  move 
the  little  catch  which  released  the  trigger  for  firing.  With 
hasty  fingers  he  tore  off  the  sleeve  of  Jimmie's  shirt,  and  bound 
up  his  arm  tightly  with  a  bandage  from  his  kit;  then  he  raised 


230  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

up  over  the  rock,  and  cursed  the  sockray  Bosh  and  began  to  fire. 

Jimmie  got  up  the  nerve  to  peer  out,  and  there  were  the 
grey  figures,  much  nearer  now,  and  he  knew  they  were  Germans 
because  they  were  like  the  pictures  he  had  seen.  They  were 
running  at  him,  firing  as  they  came,  and  Jimmie  fired  his  re- 
volver, shutting  his  eyes  because  he  was  scared  of  it.  But  then, 
finding  that  it  behaved  .all  right,  he  fired  again,  and  this  time 
he  did  not  close  his  eyes,  because  he  saw  a  big  German  running 
straight  towards  him,  the  fury  of  battle  in  his  face.  It  was 
plain  what  this  German  meant  to  do — to  leap  on  Jimmie  with 
his  sharp  bayonet;  and  somehow  Jimmie  never  once  thought  of 
his  pacifist  arguments — he  fired,  and  saw  the  German  fall,  and 
was  murderously  glad  at  the  sight. 

There  were  shots  from  behind  him;  apparently  there  had 
been  a  lot  of  Frenchmen  hidden  in  these  woods,  and  the  enemy 
was  not  finding  it  easy  to  advance.  Jimmie's  companion  jumped 
up  and  ran  again,  and  Jimmie  followed,  and  a  hundred  yards 
or  so  back  they  came  to  a  shell-hole  with  half  a  dozen  poilus  in 
it.  Jimmie  tumbled  in,  and  the  men  chattered  at  him,  and  gave 
him  more  cartridges,  so  that  when  the  Germans  appeared  again 
he  did  his  part.  A  bullet  took  a  lump  of  hair  off  his  temple, 
and  shrapnel  exploding  nearby  almost  split  his  ear-drums;  but 
still  he  went  on  shooting.  His  heart  was  really  in  the  job  now, 
he  was  going  to  stop  these  Bosh  or  bust.  With  five  Frenchmen, 
two  of  them  wounded,  he  held  the  shell-hole  for  an  hour ;  one  of 
them  ran  back  and  staggered  up  with  a  supply  of  ammunition, 
and  loaded  up  a  rifle  for  Jimmie,  and  laid  it  so  that  he  could 
manage  it  with  one  hand.  So  Jimmie  went  on  shooting,  half- 
dead,  half-blind,  half-choked  with  powder  smoke. 

The  sockray  Bosh  made  another  charge,  and  this  was  the 
end,  every  man  in  the  shell-hole  knew.  There  were  literally 
swarms  of  the  grey  figures,  their  bullets  came  like  a  shower  of 
hail.  Jimmie  decided  to  wait  till  the  enemy  was  near  enough 
for  him  to  aim  the  revolver  with  effect.  He  crouched,  watch- 
ing a  Frenchman  with  the  life-blood  oozing  out  of  a  hole  in  his 
chest;  then  he  raised  up  and  emptied  his  automatic,  and  still 
there  were  Germans  rushing  on. 

Jimmie  was  so  very  tired  now,  he  really  did  not  care  very 
much  what  happened;  he  knelt  in  the  hole,  looking  up,  and 
suddenly  he  saw  the  huge  figure  of  a  German  looming  above 
him,  his  rifle  poised.  Jimmie  closed  his  eyes  and  waited  for 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  MEETS  THE  HUN          231 

the  blow,  and  suddenly  the  German  came  down  with  a  crash  on 
top  of  him. 

Jimmie  thought  for  sure  he  must  be  dead;  he  lay  wonder- 
ing, was  this  immortality?  But  it  did  not  seem  like  either 
heaven  or  hell  as  he  had  imagined  them,  and  gradually  he  realised 
that  the  German  was  writhing  and  moaning.  Jimmie  wriggled 
from  under,  and  looked  up,  just  in  time  to  see  another  German 
loom  over  the  shell-hole,  and  pitch  forward  and  hit  on  his 
face. 

It  was  evident  that  somebody  farther  back  was  attending  to 
these  Germans ;  so  J  immie  lay  still,  with  a  feeble  nicker  of  hope 
in  his  heart.  The  rattle  of  shots  went  on,  a  battle  that  lasted 
ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  but  Jimmie  was  too  tired  to  peer  out  and 
see  how  matters  were  going.  Presently  he  heard  some  one 
running  up  behind  him,  and  he  looked  around  and  up,  and 
saw  two  men  jump  into  the  shell-hole.  He  took  one  glance, 
and  his  heart  leaped.  The  doughboys ! 


VIII 

Yes,  sir,  there  were  two  doughboys  in  the  shell-hole !  Jim- 
mie had  seen  so  many  tens  of  thousands  of  them  that  he  had 
no  doubt.  Compared  with  the  war-battered  poilus,  they  were 
like  soldiers  out  of  a  fashion-plate:  smooth-shaven,  with  long 
chins  and  thin  hips,  and  a  thousand  other  details  which  made 
you  realise  that  home  was  home,  and  better  than  any  other 
place  in  the  world!  And  oh,  the  beautiful  business-like  pre- 
cision of  these  fashion-plate  soldiers !  They  never  said  a  word, 
they  never  even  glanced  about ;  they  just  threw  themselves  down 
at  the  edge  of  the  shell-hole,  and  leaned  their  rifles  over  and 
set  to  work.  You  didn't  need  to  see — you  could  tell  from  the 
look  on  these  men's  faces  that  they  were  hitting  something ! 

Presently  came  two  more,  leaping  in.  Without  so  much  as 
a  nod  of  greeting,  they  settled  down  and  went  to  shooting;  and 
when  they  had  used  up  most  of  their  cartridges,  one  of  them 
got  up  and  shouted  to  the  rear,  and  there  came  a  man  running 
with  a  fresh  supply  in  a  big  pouch. 

Later  on  came  three  more  with  rifles.  Apparently  there 
were  not  so  many  Germans  now,  for  these  newcomers  found  time 
for  words.  "They  told  us  to  hold  a  line  back  there/'  said  one. 
"But  hell!" 


232  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

"There's  more  Huns  up  ahead,"  said  another.    "Let's  get 

"Just  as  well  now  as  later,"  said  a  third. 

"You  stay  behind  and  get  that  finger  tied  up,"  said  the  first 
speaker;  but  the  other  told  him  to  go  and  get  his  own  fingers 
tied  up. 

Then  one  of  them  looked  about  and  spied  Jimmie.  "Why, 
here's  a  Yank !"  he  cried.  "What  you  doin'  here?" 

Jimmie  answered :  "I'm  a  motor-cycle  man,  and  they  sent  me 
with  maps  for  a  battery,  but  I  think  it's  been  captured  long 
ago." 

"You're  wounded,"  said  the  other. 

"It  ain't  much,"  said  Jimmie,  apologetically.  "It  was  a 
long  time  ago  anyhow." 

"Well,  you  go  back,"  said  the  doughboy.  "We're  here  now — 
it'll  be  all  right."  He  said  it,  not  boastingly,  but  as  a  simple 
matter  of  fact.  He  was  a  mere  boy,  a  rosy-cheeked  kid  with 
a  little  ugly  pug-nose  covered  with  freckles,  and  a  wide,  grin- 
ning mouth.  But  to  Jimmie  he  seemed  just  the  loveliest  boy 
that  had  ever  come  out  of  the  U.  S.  A.  "Can  you  walk?"  he 
asked. 

"Sure!"  said  Jimmie. 

"And  these  Frenchies  ?"  The  doughboy  looked  at  the  others. 
"You  savvy  their  lingo?"  When  Jimmie  shook  his  head,  he 
turned  to  the  battle-worn  hairy  ones.  "You  fellows  go  back," 
he  said.  "We  don't  need  you  now."  When  they  stared  un- 
comprehending, he  asked :  "Polly  voo  Francy  ?" 

"We,  we!"  cried  they,  in  one  voice. 

"Well  then,"  said  the  doughboy,  "go  back!  Go  home! 
Toot  sweet!  Have  sleep!  Rest!  We  lick  'em  Heinies!"  As 
the  poilus  did  not  show  much  grasp  of  this  kind  of  "Francy," 
the  doughboy  boosted  them  to  their  feet,  pointed  to  the  rear, 
patted  them  on  the  back,  and  grinned  with  his  wide  mouth. 
"Good  boy!  Go  home!  American!  American!" — as  if  that 
was  enough  to  make  clear  that  the  work  of  France  in  this  war 
was  done !  The  poilus  looked  over  the  top  of  the  shell-hole,  and 
saw  a  swarm  of  those  new  fashion-plate  soldiers,  darting  for- 
ward through  the  woods,  throwing  themselves  down  and  shoot- 
ing at  the  sockray  Bosh.  They  looked  at  the  rosy-cheeked  boy 
with  the  grateful  faces  of  dogs,  and  shouldered  their  packs  and 
rifles  and  set  out  for  the  rear,  helping  Jimmie,  who  suddenly 
found  himself  very  weak,  and  with  a  splitting  headache. 


JIMMIE  HIGKHNS  MEETS  THE  HUN          233 


IX 

These  doughboys  had  a  song  that  Jimmie  had  heard  all  the 
time:  "The  Yanks  are  coming!"  And  now  the  song  needed 
to  be  rewritten :  "The  Yanks  are  here !"  All  these  woods  through 
which  Jimmie  had  blundered  with  his  motor-cycle  were  now 
swarming  with  nice,  new,  clean-shaven,  freshly-tailored  sol- 
dier-boys, turned  loose  to  get  their  first  chance  at  the  Hun. 
Four  years  they  had  been  reading  about  him  and  hating  him, 
a  year  and  a  half  they  had  been  getting  ready  to  hit  him — 
and  now  at  last  they  were  turned  loose  and  told  to  go  to  it! 
Back  on  the  roads  was  an  endless  procession  of  motor-trucks, 
irith  doughboys,  and  also  marines,  or  "leather-necks,"  as  they 
were  called.  They  had  started  at  four  o'clock  that  morning, 
and  ridden  all  day  packed  in  like  sardines;  and  here,  a  mile 
or  two  back  in  the  woods,  the  trucks  had  come  to  a  halt,  and 
the  sardines  had  jumped  out  and  gone  into  this  war ! 

Jimmie  did  not  realise  till  long  afterwards  what  a  world- 
drama  he  had  been  witnessing.  For  four  months  the  Beast  had 
been  driving  at  Paris;  irresistibly,  incessantly,  eating  his  way 
like  a  forest  fire,  spreading  ever  wider  and  more  fearful  deso- 
lation— this  Beast  with  the  Brains  of  an  Engineer !  The  world 
had  shuddered  and  held  its  breath,  knowing  that  if  he  got  to 
Paris  it  would  mean  the  end  of  the  war,  and  of  all  things 
that  free  men  value.  And  now  here  he  made  his  last  supreme 
rush,  and  the  French  lines  wavered  and  cracked  and  gave  way ; 
and  so  in  this  desperate  crisis  they  had  brought  up  the  truck- 
loads  of  doughboys  for  their  first  real  test  against  the  Beast. 
I  The  orders  had  been  to  hold  at  all  hazards;  but  that  had 
not  been  enough  for  the  doughboys,  they  and  the  leather-necks 
had  seized  the  offensive  and  sent  the  Germans  reeling  back. 
The  very  pride  of  the  Prussian  army  had  been  worsted  by 
these  new  troops  from  overseas,  at  whom  they  had  mocked, 
whose  very  existence  they  had  scouted. 

It  was  a  blow  from  which  "Fritz"  never  recovered ;  he  never 
gained  another  foot,  and  it  was  the  beginning  of  a  retreat  that 
did  not  stop  until  it  reached  the  Ehine.  And  the  Yanks 
had  done  it — the  Yanks,  with  the  help  of  Jimmie  Higgins! 
For  Jimmie  had  got  there  first;  Jimmie  had  held  the  fort 
while  the  Yanks  were  coming!  Yes,  truly;  if  he  had  n't 
stuck  by  that  machine-gun  and  helped  to  work  it,  if  he  hadn't 


234  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

hid, in  that  shell-hole,  emptying  the  contents  of  a  rifle  and  an 
automatic  pistol  into  the  charging  Huns,  if  he  hadn't  held  them 
up  that  precious  hour — why,  they  might  have  swept  over  this 
position,  and  the  Yanks  might  not  have  had  a  chance  to  de- 
ploy, and  the  victory  of  "Chatty  Terry"  might  not  have  gone 
resounding  down  the  ages!  The  whole  course  of  the  world's 
history  might  have  been  different,  if  one  little  Socialist  ma- 
chinist from  Leesville,  TL  S.  A.,  had  not  chanced  to  be  wan- 
dering through  "Bellow  Wood"  in  search  of  a  fabulous  and  never- 
discovered  "Botteree  Nonnb  Cotti" 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

JIMfMIE  HIGGINS  SEES  THE  OTHER  SIDE 


T)UT  these  exultations  and  glory-thoughts  were  reserved  for 
•*-*  a  later  stage  of  Jimmie  Higgins's  life.  At  present  he  was 
weak,  and  his  head  was  splitting,  and  his  left  arm  burning  like 
fire.  And  on  top  of  this  came  a  happening  so  strange  that  it 
drove  the  whole  battle  from  his  thoughts.  He  was  walking  on 
a  path  with  his  French  companions,  when  one  of  them  noticed 
a  man  in  a  French  uniform  lying  on  the  ground  a  little  way 
to  one  side.  He  was  not  a  soldier,  but  a  hospital-orderly  or 
stretcher-bearer,  as  you  could  tell  by  tne  white  bandage  with  a 
red  cross  on  his  arm.  He  had  been  shot  through  the  shoulder, 
and  some  one  had  plugged  up  the  wound  and  left  him;  so  now 
the  French  soldiers  helped  him  to  his  feet  and  started  to  lead 
him  back.  Jimmie  watched  them,  and  when  he  saw  the  man's 
face,  the  conviction  stole  over  him  that  he  had  seen  the  face 
before.  He  had  seen  it,  or  one  incredibly  like  it — and  under 
circumstances  of  intense  emotion.  The  old  emotion  stirred  in 
the  deeps  of  his  subconsciousness,  and  suddenly  it  burst  to  the 
surface,  an  explosion  of  excitement.  It  could  not  be!  The 
idea  was  absurd!  But — it  must  be!  It  was!  The  wounded 
French  stretcher-bearer  was  Lacey  Granitch ! 

The  young  heir  of  the  Empire  Machine  Shops  might  never 
have  known  the  little  Socialist  machinist;  but  recognition  was 
so  evident  on  Jimmie's  face,  that  Lacey  was  set  groping  in  his 
own  mind.  Now  and  then  as  the  party  walked  along  he  stole 
an  uneasy  glance  at  his  fellow-countryman ;  and  presently  when 
they  struck  a  road,  and  sat  down  to  rest  and  wait  for  a  vehicle 
of  some  sort,  Lacey  put  himself  beside  Jimmie  and  began: 
"You're  the  fellow  that  was  in  the  house  that  night,  aren't. 


you?" 


235 


236  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Jimmie  nodded;  and  the  young  lord  of  Leesville  looked 
at  him  uneasily,  looked  away,  and  then  looked  back.  "I've  got 
something  I  want  to  ask  you/'  he  said. 

"What's  that?" 

"Don't  give  me  away." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"Don't  tell  who  I  am.  There's  no  reason  why  anybody  should 
know.  I'm  trying  to  get  away  from  it." 

"I  see,"  said  Jimmie.    "I  won't  tell." 

"You  promise?" 

"Sure." 

Then  was  a  silence.  Then  suddenly,  with  no  reason  that 
Jimmie  could  see,  the  other  exclaimed:  "You'll  tell!" 

"But  I  won't!"  protested  Jimmie.  "What  makes  you  say 
so?" 

"You  hate  me!" 

Jimmie  hesitated,  as  if  investigating  his  own  mind.  "No," 
he  said,  "I  don't  hate  you — not  any  more." 

"God!"  exclaimed  the  other.  "You  don't  need  to — I've 
paid  all  I  owe !" 

Jimmie  studied  his  face.  Yes,  you  could  see  that  was  true. 
Not  merely  was  Lacey  haggard,  his  features  drawn  with  the 
pain  he  was  enduring ;  there  were  lines  in  his  face  that  had  not 
been  put  there  by  a  few  days  of  battle,  nor  even  by  a  couple 
of  years  of  war.  He  looked  twenty  years  older  than  the  insolent 
young  aristocrat  whom  Jimmie  had  seen  hurling  defiance  at  the 
Empire  strikers. 

His  eyes  were  searching  Jimmie's  anxiously,  pleadingly. 
"I  had  to  get  away,"  he  said.  "I  couldn't-  face  it — everybody 
staring  at  me,  grinning  at  me  behind  my  back!  I  tried  to 
enlist  in  the  American  army,  but  they  wouldn't  have  me — not 
to  do  any  sort  of  work.  So  I  came  to  France,  where  they  need 
men  badly — they  let  me  carry  a  stretcher.  I've  been  through 
it  all  now — more  than  a  year.  I've  been  wounded  twice  be<- 
fore,  but  I  can't  seem  to  get  killed,  no  matter  where  I  go. 
It's  the  fellows  that  want  to  live  that  get  killed — damn  it!'* 

The  speaker  paused,  as  if  seeing  visions  of  the  men  whom 
he  had  seen  die  when  they  wanted  to  live.  When  he  went  on, 
it  was  in  a  voice  of  humble  entreaty.  "I've  tried  to  pay  for  my 
blunders.  All  I  ask  now  is  to  be  let  alone,  and  not  have  every- 
body gossiping  about  me.  That's  fair,  isn't  it  ?" 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  SEES  THE  OTHER  SIDE     237 

Jimmie  answered:  "I  give  you  my  word — I  won't  tell  a 
soul  about  it/' 

"Thank  you,"  said  Lacey ;  and  then,  after  a  moment's  pause, 
"My  name  is  Peterson.  Herbert  Peterson." 


n 

A  truck  came  along  and  gave  them  a  lift  to  the  nearest 
dressing-station :  a  couple  of  tents  with  big  red  crosses  on  them, 
and  a  couple  more  being  put  up,  and  motor-cars  bringing  nurces 
and  supplies,  and  others  with  loads  of  wounded,  French  and 
American.  Jimmie  was  so  weak  now  that  he  hardly  cared  about 
anything;  he  took  his  place  in  a  row  of  wounded  men,  waiting 
patiently,  trying  not  to  make  a  fuss,  because  this  was  war, 
and  the  Hun  had  to  be  licked,  and  everybody  was  doing  his 
best.  He  lay  down  on  the  ground,  and  shut  his  eyes;  and 
gradually  there  came  to  him  a  familiar  odour.  At  first  he 
thought  it  was  the  product  of  his  imagination — because  he  had 
just  met  Lacey  Granitch,  and  been  reminded  of  the  night  when 
he  and  Lizzie  had  crouched  in  the  room  of  the  lonely  farm- 
house, and  listened  to  the  sounds  and  smelled  the  odour  through 
the  door.  And  presently  Jimmie  heard  the  very  same  sounds 
from  the  tent — moans  and  shrieks,  babbling  as  of  insane  men. 
How  strange  that  both  times  when  he  smelt  this  odour  and 
heard  these  cries  he  should  be  with  the  young  master  of  the 
Empire  Shops! 

Jimmie's  turn  came,  and  they  led  him  into  the  tent,  making 
short  work  with  him — merely  ascertaining  that  no  artery  was 
cut  and  that  he  would  not  bleed  to  death,  and  then  tagging  him 
for  the  brigade  hospital.  They  loaded  him  into  a  truck  with 
a  score  of  other  "sitting  cases,"  including  Lacey  Granitch, 
and  treated  him  to  a  long  ride  which  he  did  not  at  all  enjoy. 
At  the  hospital,  which  was  a  big  group  of  tents,  now  swarming 
with  activity,  Jimmie  waited  his  turn  again — so  many  wounds 
all  at  once,  and  so  few  to  tend  them ! 

At  last  he  was  led  into  the  operating-place;  the  first  sight 
that  greeted  his  eyes  being  a  couple  of  orderlies  carrying  out 
a  tub  filled  with  sawed  off  arms  and  legs  and  miscellaneous 
fragments  of  men.  There  was  a  surgeon  with  a  white  costume 
smeared  with  blood,  and  a  white  mask  over  his  face,  and  sev- 
eral nurses  with  white  masks  also.  Nobody  greeted  him,  or 


238  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

stopped  for  preliminaries — they  laid  him  on  the  operating-table; 
and  covered  all  but  his  shattered  arm  with  a  rubber  sheet; 
and  slit  off  his  bandages,  and  then  a  nurse  put  something  ovei 
his  face  and  said,  "Breathe  deeply,  please." 

It  was  that  ghastly  odour  again,  but  overpowering  now, 
Jimmie  breathed,  and  everything  began  to  rock  and  swim,  his 
head  began  to  roar,  worse  than  when  he  had  fought  the  machine- 
gun.  He  could  not  stand  any  more  of  it ;  he  cried  and  struggled 
to  get  loose,  but  they  had  strapped  his  feet,  and  some  one 
lield  his  other  arm,  so  his  frantic  efforts  were  of  no  avail. 

He  began  to  fall;  head  over  heels  he  went  tumbling,  int< 
vast  bottomless  abysses — down,  down,  down.  He  heard  a  strange 
voice  saying:  "Their  collars  are  too  tight."  The  words  rang 
in  his  ears,  they  assumed  monstrous  and  overwhelming  signifi- 
cance, they  became  a  whole  universe  by  themselves — "Theii 
•collars  are  too  tight !"  All  the  rest  of  creation  ceased,  the  lamj 
of  being  went  out;  there  remained  only  a  voice,  pronouncing 
amid  whirling  infinities :  "Their  collars  are  too  tight  I" 


in 

Somewhere  in  the  vast  spaces  of  chaos  was  a  snore.  Then 
ages  afterwards,  out  of  the  void  there  arose  a  mysterious  for- 
gotten effort  to  get  something  out  of  a  choking  throat.  Aftei 
several  such  unaccountable  manifestations,  the  feeble  flame  oJ 
consciousness  that  called  itself  Jimmie  Higgins  flickered  up 
and  he  realised  that  it  was  he  who  was  trying  desperately  not  tc 
be  choked.  Also  he  realised  that  he  was  become  one  horrible 
pain ;  somebody  had  driven  a  nail  through  his  arm,  and  f astenec 
him  tight  to  the  ground  by  it;  also  they  had  blown  up  his 
stomach,  so  that  it  was  threatening  to  burst,  and  when  he  choked 
it  was  an  agony.  He  gasped  for  help,  but  no  one  paid  any  atten- 
tion to  him;  he  was  all  alone  in  the  dungeon-house  of  pain 
buried  and  forgotten  forever. 

Gradually  he  emerged  from  the  misty  regions  of  anaesthesia 
and  realised  that  he  was  on  a  stretcher,  and  being  carried.  H( 
moaned  for  water,  but  no  one  would  give  it  to  him.  He  pleadec 
that  there  was  something  dreadful  wrong  with  him,  he  was 
going  to  burst  inside;  but  they  told  him  that  was  only  ethei 
gas,  and  not  to  worry,  he  would  soon  be  all  right.  They  laic 
him  on  a  cot  in  a  room,  one  of  a  long  row,  and  left  him  tc 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  SEES  THE  OTHER  SIDE     239 

wrestle  with  the  demons  all  alone.  This  was  war,  and  a  man 
who  had  only  a  shattered  arm  might  count  himself  among  the 
lucky. 

So  through  a  night  and  a  day  Jimmie  lay  and  made  the 
best  of  a  bad  situation.  There  were  two  nurses  in  this  tent,  and 
Jimmie,  having  nothing  to  do  but  watch  them,  conceived  a 
bitter  rage  at  them  both.  One  was  lean  and  angular  and  sal- 
low ;  she  went  about  her  duties  grimly,  with  no  nonsense,  and 
Jimmie  did  not  realise  that  she  was  ready  to  drop  with  ex- 
haustion. The  other  was  pretty,  with  fluffy  yellow  hair,  and 
was  flirting  shamelessly  with  a  young  doctor.  Perhaps  Jimmie 
should  have  reflected  that  men  were  being  killed  rapidly  these 
days,  and  it  was  necessary  that  some  should  concern  themselves 
with  supplying  the  future  generations;  but  Jimmie  was  in  no 
mood  to  probe  the  philosophy  of  flirtation — he  remembered  the 
Honourable  Beatrice  Clendenning,  and  wished  he  was  back  in 
Merrie  England.  Also  he  remembered  his  pacifist  principles, 
and  wished  he  had  kept  out  of  this  hellish  war ! 

But  his  pain  became  somewhat  less,  and  they  loaded  him 
into  an  ambulance  and  took  him  farther  back,  to  a  big  base 
hospital.  Here,  before  long,  he  was  able  to  sit  up,  and  to  be 
wheeled  out  into  the  sunshine,  and  to  discover  the  unguessed 
raptures  of  convalescence*— the  amazing  continuous  appetite,  the 
amazing  continuous  supply  of  good  things  to  eat  and  drink; 
the  bliss  of  looking  at  trees  and  flowers,  and  listening  to  the 
singing  of  birds,  and  telling  other  people  how  you  rode  out 
on  a  motor-cycle  to  look  for  "Botteree  Normb  Cott" — what  the 
hell  was  that,  anyhow? — and  ran  into  the  whole  Hun  army, 
and  held  it  up  for  a  couple  of  hours,  and  won  the  battle  of 
Chatty  Terry  all  alone ! 

IV 

One  of  the  first  persons  Jimmie  saw  was  Lacey  Granitch, 
and  Lacey  took  him  off  to  a  corner  of  the  park  and  said :  "You 
haven't  told  any  one?" 

"No,  Mr.  Granitch,"  said  Jimmie. 

"My  name  is  Peterson,"  said  Lacey. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Peterson,"  said  Jimmie. 

It  was  a  strange  acquaintance  between  these  two,  chosen 
from  the  opposite  poles  of  social  life,  and  brought  together  in 


240  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

the  democracy  of  pain.  Jimmie  had  the  young  lord  of  Lees- 
yille  down,  and  might  have  walked  on  his  face;  but  strange 
as  it  might  seem,  Jimmie  took  towards  him  an  attitude  of 
timid  humility.  Jimmie  felt  that  he  had  betrayed  him  to  a 
cruel  and  hideous  vengeance;  moreover,  in  spite  of  all  his  revo- 
lutionary fervours,  Jimmie  could  not  forget  that  he  was  talk- 
ing to  one  of  the  masters  of  the  world.  You  might  hate  with 
^11  your  soul  the  prestige  and  power  that  went  with  the  Granitch 
millions,  but  you  couldn't  be  indifferent  to  it,  you  could  never 
feel  natural  in  the  presence  of  it. 

As  for  Lacey,  he  was  no  longer  the  proud,  free,  rich  young 
aristocrat;  he  had  suffered,  and  learned  respect  for  his  fellow- 
men,  regardless  of  money.  He  heard  how  this  little  Socialist 
machinist,  whom  once  he  had  cursed  in  a  herd  of  strikers,  had 
ridden  into  the  jaws  of  death  and  helped  to  nail  the  Beast 
through  the  snout!  So  he  wanted  to  know  about  him,  and 
these  two  sat  conversing  for  hours,  each  of  them  discovering 
a  new  world. 

Just  now  all  Europe  and  America  were  engaged  in  furious 
argument  on  the  subject  of  the  Bolsheviki.  Had  they  betrayed 
democracy  to  the  Hun,  or  were  they,  as  they  claimed,  leading 
the  way  for  mankind  to  a  newer  and  broader  kind  of  democracy  ? 
Lacey,  of  course,  believed  the  former — everybody  in  the  Amer- 
ican army  believed  it,  and  in  fact  everybody  in  France,  except 
a  few  dyed-in-the-wool  reds.  When  Lacey  found  that  Jimmie 
was  one  of  these  reds,  he  questioned  him,  and  they  had  it  hot 
and  heavy  for  days.  How  could  men  have  done  what  Lenine 
find  Trotzky  had  done,  unless  they  were  paid  German  agents? 
So  Jimmie  had  to  set  forth  the  theory  of  internationalism;  the 
Bolsheviki  were  making  propaganda  in  Germany,  they  were 
doing  more  to  break  the  power  of  the  Kaiser  than  even  the 
Allied  armies.  How  did  Jimmie  know  that?  He  didn't  know 
the  details,  of  course,  but  he  knew  the  soul  of  internationalism; 
he  could  tell  what  Lenine  and  Trotzky  were  doing,  because  he 
knew  what  he  would  be  doing,  were  he  in  their  place! 

They  talked  on  and  on,  and  the  young  lord  of  Leesville, 
who  would  some  day  fall  heir  to  an  enormous  fortune,  and  had 
been  trained  to  think  of  it  as  his  by  every  right,  human  and 
divine,  heard  a  little  runt  of  a  machinist  from  the  shops  explain 
how  he  was  going  to  seize  that  mass  of  property — he  and  the 
rest  of  his  fellows  combined  into  one  big  union — and  how  they 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  SEES  THE  OTHER  SIDE     241 

were  going  to  run  it,  not  for  Lacey's  benefit,  but  for  the  benefit 
of  all  society.  Jimmie  forgot  all  respect  for  persons  when  he 
got  on  this  theme;  this  was  his  dream,  this  was  the  proletariat 
expropriating  the  expropriators,  and  he  told  about  it  with  shin- 
ing eyes.  In  times  past  the  young  lord  of  Leesville  would  have 
answered  him  with  insolent  serenity,  perhaps  with  a  threat  of 
machine-guns;  but  now  he  said  hesitatingly  that  it  was  a  large 
programme,  and  he  feared  it  couldn't  be  made  to  work. 


He  was  moved  to  question  Jimmie  about  his  past  life,  so 
as  to  understand  how  such  fanaticism  had  come  to  be.  So 
Jimmie  told  about  starvation  and  neglect,  about  overwork  and 
unemployment,  about  strikes  and  jails  and  manifold  oppressions. 
The  other  listened,  nodding  his  head.  Yes,  of  course,  that  was 
enough  to  drive  any  man  to  extremes.  And  then,  thinking 
further,  "I  wonder,"  said  he,  "which  of  us  two  got  the  worse 
deal  from  life." 

Jimmie  was  without  means  of  understanding  that  remark. 
Lacey  had  had  everything,  hadn't  he  ?  To  which  Lacey  answered, 
"I  had  too  much,  and  you  had  too  little;  and  which  is  worse 
for  a  man  ?" 

By  way  of  making  clear  what  was  in  his  mind,  he  told  Jimmie 
a  little  about  his  own  life.  He  pictured  a  big  household,  with  a 
father  beset  by  business  cares,  and  turning  over  the  managing 
of  his  home  to  employes.  "My  mother  was  a  fool,"  said 
Lacey.  "I  suppose  it  sounds  bad  for  a  man  to  say  that,  but 
I've  known  it  all  my  life.  Maybe  the  old  man  was  too  busy 
to  look  up  a  woman  with  sense — or  maybe  he  didn't  believe 
there  were  any.  Anyhow,  my  mother's  idea  was  to  be  seen 
spending  more  money  than  any  other  woman  in  town ;  that  was 
her  'position,'  and  her  children  were  part  of  the  show — we  must 
wear  more  clothes  and  bully  more  servants  than  anybody  else's 
children.  I've  thought  it  all  out — I've  had  lots  of  opportunity 
for  thinking  of  late.  I  can't  remember  when  I  didn't  hit  my 
nurse  in  the  face  if  she  tried  to  take  away  a  toy  from  me. 
I  never  had  to  ask  for  anything  twice — if  I  did,  I  went  into  a 
tantrum  and  got  it.  I  learned  to  smoke  and  to  drink  wine, 
and  then  came  the  women — the  women  finished  me.  as  you 
know." 


242  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

He  paused;  and  Jimmie  nodded  sympathetically,  remem- 
bering the  story  of  the  eight  chorus-girls  about  whom  "Wild 
Bill"  had  read  out  in  the  local. 

"If s  hell  for  a  boy  to  have  a  lot  of  money/'  said  Lacey, 
"and  to  be  preyed  on  by  women.  You  have  your  human  emo- 
tions, of  course — you're  absolutely  compelled  to  believe  in  some 
woman;  and  they're  all  perfectly  cold-blooded — at  least  the 
kinds  that  a  rich  boy  meets.  I  don't  mean  only  adventuresses — 
I  mean  the  society-girls,  the  ones  you're  supposed  to  marry. 
Their  damned  old  harpies  of  mothers  are  pushing  behind  them, 
of  course — laying  out  everything  they  own  for  clothes,  and 
not  knowing  how  they  can  pay  the  bills  for  last  season.  They 
set  out  to  catch  you,  they're  mad  with  the  determination,  they 
don't  care  about  reputation,  they'll  do  any  damned  thing.  You 
take  them  out  in  your  car,  and  then  they  want  to  get  out  and 
pick  flowers,  and  they  draw  you  into  the  woods,  and  presently 
you've  got  hold  of  their  hands,  and  then  you're  hugging  and 
kissing  them,  and  then  you  go  the  limit.  But  then  you've  got  to 
marry  them;  and  when  they  find  you  won't,  they  have  hys- 
terics, and  say  they're  going  to  shoot  their  heads  off;  only 
they  don't  shoot  their  heads  off,  they  kiss  you  some  more,  and 
borrow  your  diamond  scarf-pin  and  forget  to  return  it." 

The  young  lord  of  Leesville  fell  silent.  Sombre  memories 
possessed  him,  and  Jimmie,  darting  a  swift  glance  at  him, 
saw  the  look  of  weary  age  on  his  face.  "I've  never  talked  with 
anybody  about  what  happened  at  the  end,"  said  he,  "and  I 
never  mean  to;  but  I'll  say  this  much — the  time  I  loved  a 
married  woman  was  the  only  honest  love  I  ever  had,  because 
she  was  the  only  woman  who  wasn't  looking  to  marry  me!" 

That  was  of  course  too  subtle  for  a  man  like  Jimmie  Higgins. 
But  this  much  the  little  Socialist  got — that  the  heir  of  the 
Granitch  fortune  had  been  in  truth  a  miserably  unhappy  mortal. 
And  this  was  an  extraordinary  revelation  to  Jimmie,  who  had 
taken  it  for  granted  that  the  rich  were  the  lucky  ones  of  earth. 
He  had  hated  them  on  the  supposition  that  they  were  without 
care;  they  were  the  Lotus-eaters,  of  whom  the  poet  wrote  that 
they 

"live  and  lie  reclined 

On  the  hills  like  Gods  together,  careless  of  mankind, 
For  they  lie  beside  their  nectar,  and  the  bolts  are  hurl'd 
Far  below  them  in  the  valleys,  and  the  clouds  are  lightly  curl'd 
Bound  their  golden  houses,  girdled  with  the  gleaming  world: 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  SEES  THE  OTHER  SIDE     243 

Where  they  smile  in  secret,  looking  over  wasted  lands, 

Blight  of  famine,  plague  and  earthquake,  roaring  deeps  and  fiery  sands, 

Clanging  fights   and  flaming  towns,   and   sinking  ships  and  praying 

hands. 

But  they  smile,  they  find  a  music  centred  in  a  doleful  song 
Steaming  up,  a  lamentation  and  an  ancient  tale  of  wrong, 
Like  a  tale  of  little  meaning  tho'  the  words  are  strong ; 
Chanted  from  an  ill-used  race  of  men  that  cleave  the  soil, 
Sow  the  seed,  and  reap  the  harvest  with  enduring  toil, 
Storing  yearly  little  dues  of  wheat,  and  wine  and  oil. 

But  now  Jimmie  had  crossed  the  social  chasm,  he  had  seen  the 
other  side  of  the  problem  of  riches  and  poverty.  After  that 
revelation,  he  would  be  more  merciful  in  his  judgments  of  his 
fellow-mortals;  he  would  understand  that  the  system  in  which 
we  are  trapped  makes  true  happiness  impossible — for  those 
who  have  too  much  as  well  as  for  those  who  have  too  little. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER 


1X7HILE  Jimmie  wandered  through  the  streets  of  this  French 
**  town,  letting  his  broken  arm  get  strong  again,  the  death- 
grapple  of  the  war  continued.  In  mid- July  the  Germans  made 
a  last  desperate  lunge  at  the  Marne;  they  were  stopped  dead 
in  a  couple  of  days  by  the  French  and  Americans  combined; 
and  then  the  Allied  commander-in-chief  struck  back,  smashing 
in  the  side  of  the  German  salient,  and  driving  the  enemy,  still 
fighting  furiously,  but  moving  back  from  the  soil  of  France. 
All  France  caught  its  breath  with  excitement,  with  relief 
mingled  with  dread.  So  many  times  they  had  hoped,  through 
these  four  weary,  hideous  years,  and  so  many  times  their  hopes 
had  been  dashed !  But  this  time  there  was  no  mistake — it  was 
really  the  turning  of  the  tide.  The  enemy  resisted  at  every 
step,  but  he  went  on  moving  out  of  the  salient,  and  the  Allies 
went  on  lunging — now  here,  now  there,  see-sawing  back  and 
forth,  and  keeping  their  opponents  bewildered. 

Jimmie  read  about  it  in  the  army  paper,  the  "Stars  and 
Stripes";  and  now,  for  the  first  time  in  four  years,  Jimmie's 
mind  was  one  mind  on  the  war.  Jimmie  was  on  the  field  of 
every  battle,  his  teeth  set,  his  hands  clenched,  his  whole  soul 
helping  at  the  job.  He  had  got  over  the  disorders  of  anaes- 
thesia, and  was  forgetting  the  shock  of  his  wound;  he  had 
realised  that  wounds,  and  even  death,  were  something  a  man 
could  bear — not  cheerfully,  of  course,  not  lightly,  but  you  could 
bear  them,  if  only  you  knew  that  the  Beast  was  being  put  out 
of  business. 

In  the  old  days  the  word  German  had  meant  to  Jimmie 
fellows  like  Meissner  and  Forster  and  Schneider;  but  now  it 
meant  a  huge  grey  form  looming  over  the  edge  of  a  shell-hole, 

244 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER      245 

its  face  distorted  with  hate,  its  bayonet  poised  to  plunge.  Per- 
haps the  most  vivid  impression  of  Jimmie's  whole  life  was  the 
relief  he  had  felt  when  he  realised  that  some  doughboy  had 
shot  a  bullet  into  that  looming  figure.  Let  there  be  more 
doughboys,  more  and  more,  until  the  last  figure  had  been  shot ! 
Jimmie  knew,  of  course,  that  the  policy  he  had  been  advocating 
in  America  had  not  tended  to  that  end;  if  Jimmie  in  Leesville 
had  had  his  way,  there  would  have  been  no  doughboys  to 
rescue  Jimmie  at  Chatty  Terry!  Jimmie  was  quite  clear  on 
that  point  now,  and  for  the  time  being  the  pacifist  was  dead 
in  him. 

He  listened  to  the  talk  of  the  men  in  this  hospital.  They 
had  all  been  through  the  mill,  they  had  got  their  wounds,  light 
or  severe,  but  it  had  not  broken  their  spirit — not  a  bit  of  it; 
there  was  hardly  one  among  them  who  was  not  hoping  to  get 
cured  and  to  get  back  into  the  game  before  it  was  over.  That 
was  how  they  took  it — a  game,  the  most  sensational,  the  most 
thrilling  that  a  man  would  ever  play.  These  boys  had  been 
brought  up  on  foot-ball,  the  principal  training  and  only  real 
interest  in  life  of  some  hundreds  of  thousands  of  young  Amer- 
icans every  year.  They  had  brought  the  spirit  and  the  method 
of  foot-ball  with  them  into  the  army,  and  communicated  it  to 
those  less  fortunate  millions  who  had  been  neither  to  college 
nor  to  high  school:  the  team-work,  the  speed,  the  incessant, 
gruelling  drill,  the  utter,  unquestioning  loyalty,  the  persistent 
searching  of  eager  young  minds  for  new  combinations,  new 
tricks ;  and  above  all  the  complete  indifference  to  the  possibility 
of  a  broken  collar-bone  or  a  damaged  heart-valve,  provided  only 
that  the  game  should  be  won  t 

This  army  was  attacking  a  foe  who  relied  on  machine-guns 
to  break  formations  and  give  time  to  withdraw  stores  and  big 
guns  to  safety;  so  the  life  of  young  America  for  the  moment 
had  become  a  study  of  the  arts  of  rushing  machine-guns.  Jim- 
mie listened  to  the  conversation  of  the  new  men,  and  saw  the 
technique  being  worked  out  before  his  eyes.  Tanks  were  all 
right,  aeroplanes  were  all  right,  when  you  had  them;  but 
mostly  you  did  not  have  them  in  time,  so  the  doughboy  was 
learning  to  take  machine-guns  with  the  bayonet.  You  had  a 
little  squad,  trained  like  a  foot-ball  team,  with  its  own  sys- 
tem of  signals,  its  formations  worked  out  by  young  heads  put 
together  at  night.  It  was  a  costly  game — you  would  be  lucky 


246  JIMMIB  HIGGINS 

if  a  third  of  the  players  came  out  alive;  but  if  you  could  get 
one  man  to  the  machine-gun  with  a  bayonet,  you  had  won  the 
game — because  he  would  take  the  gun  and  turn  it  about  on  the 
retreating  Germans,  and  could  kill  enough  of  them  in  a  minute 
to  make  up  for  the  losses  of  his  squad. 


II 

Lacey  Granitch's  shoulder  healed,  and  he  went  back  to  his 
job.  He  told  Jimmie  what  it  had  meant  to  him  to  meet  a 
Socialist;  if  he  could  believe  what  Jimmie  believed,  he  wouldn't 
mind  living,  even  with  his  shame.  Jimmie  gave  him  the  names 
of  books  to  read,  and  Lacey  promised  to  read  them;  of  course 
Jimmie  was  proud  and  happy — seeing  a  vision  of  the  Empire 
Machine  Shops  turned  over  to  the  control  of  the  workers,  the 
capitalist  system  committing  hari-kari  in  one  American  in- 
dustry ! 

Jimmie  got  a  letter  from  one  of  the  workingmen  in  the 
repair  station  where  he  had  last  worked,  telling  him  that  the 
Americans  had  taken  over  this  sector,  and  now  there  was  a 
big  shop  established,  and  when  was  he  coming  back?  But 
Jimmie  was  not  so  eager  to  come  back;  working  on  motor- 
cycles did  not  seem  a  thrilling  prospect  to  one  who  had  held 
up  the  whole  Hun  army  and  won  the  battle  of  Chatty  Terry. 
Having  proven  his  mettle  as  a  fighting  man,  Jimmie  wondered 
if  there  mightn't  be  some  way  for  him  to  get  into  the  real 
army,  and  do  a  real  man's  work? 

He  wrote  a  letter  to  the  officer  in  command  of  his  motor- 
unit,  telling  what  had  happened  to  him,  and  couldn't  it  be 
arranged?  In  reply  the  officer  said  that  he  would  have  an  in- 
vestigation made,  and  if  Jimmie's  story  could  be  verified,  he 
would  have  honourable  mention,  and  promotion  of  some  sort. 
And  sure  enough,  a  month  later,  when  Jimmie  was  ready  to 
leave  the  hospital,  came  official  notice  that  he  was  promoted  to  be 
a  sergeant  of  motor-transport,  and  ordered  to  report  to  head- 
quarters in  a  certain  harbour  on  the  English  channel  for  as- 
signment. Sergeant  Jimmie  Higgins ! 

Jimmie  reported,  of  course,  and  was  put  in  charge  of  a 
dozen  cyclists  and  repair-men,  newly  arrived  on  a  transport. 
These  men  looked  up  to  Jimmie  as  a  veteran  and  hero,  and 
Jimmie,  who  had  never  enjoyed  authority  in  his  life  before — 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER     247 

except  you  count  Jimmie  Junior  and  the  two  kids — may  have 
had  his  head  turned  just  a  little  bit.  But  there  was  real  work 
to  be  done,  and  no  time  for  strutting.  There  was  excitement 
in  the  air,  wild  rumour  and  speculation;  this  little  unit  of 
Jimmie's,  composed  of  specially  fit  men,  was  going  somewhere 
on  a  special  errand — an  expedition,  evidently  by  sea.  Nobody 
was  told  where — that  wasn't  the  way  in  the  army ;  but  presently 
there  were  issued  sheepskin-lined  coats  and  heavy  wool-lined 
boots — in  the  middle  of  August !  So  they  knew  that  they  were 
bound  for  the  far  North,  and  for  some  time.  Could  it  be  a 
surprise  attack  in  the  Baltic?  Either  that,  said  the  wise-heads, 
or  else  Archangel.  Jimmie  had  never  heard  of  this  latter  place, 
and  had  to  ask  about  it.  It  appeared  that  the  Allies  had  landed 
enormous  masses  of  stores  at  this  port  in  far  Northern  Russia; 
and  now  that  the  Russians  had  dropped  out  of  the  war,  the 
Germans  were  threatening  to  take  possession. 

Jimmie  was  thrilled  to  the  soles  of  his  new  wool-lined  boots. 
He  was  going  to  Russia,  going  to  see  the  revolution!  Jimmie 
had  but  a  vague  idea  of  world-conditions  now,  for  during  the 
past  three  or  four  months  he  had  been  reading  only  official 
papers,  which  confined  their  attention  to  the  job,  and  carefully 
omitted  mention  of  difficulties  and  complications.  The  people 
with  whom  he  talked  insisted  that  it  was  necessary  for  the 
Allies  to  do  something  to  counter  the  Brest-Litovsk  treaty; 
if  the  Germans  were  allowed  to  take  possession  of  helpless 
Russia  and  use  it  for  their  purposes,  they  might  hold  out  for 
another  hundred  years.  The  Russian  people  themselves  must 
realise  this,  and  welcome  Allied  help !  Jimmie  wasn't  sure  on 
this  latter  point,  but  he  remembered  the  Rabin  brothers  and 
their  enthusiasm  for  the  Allied  cause,  so  he  put  his  doubts 
to  sleep,  and  helped  get  his  motor-unit  stowed  on  board  a  trans- 
port. 

ill 

There  came  a  passage  across  the  North  Sea  and  up  the  coast 
of  Norway;  a  region  of  fogs  and  restless  winds,  and  incessant 
deadly  peril  of  submarine  and  mine.  There  were  three  trans- 
ports in  the  expedition,  and  a  couple  of  war-ships  convoying 
them,  and  half  a  dozen  destroyers  weaving  their  foam-patterns 
in  and  out.  Every  day  the  air  grew  colder,  and  the  period  of 


248  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

daylight  shorter;  they  were  entering  the  Land  of  the  Midnight 
Sun,  but  at  the  time  of  year  when  midnight  noons  were  ap- 
proaching. The  men  had  plenty  of  time  for  reading  and  talk; 
so  Jimmie  discussed  the  war  from  the  Socialist  point  of  view, 
defending  the  Kussian  revolutionists ;  and  so,  as  usual,  he  made 
somebody  angry,  and  got  himself  and  his  seditious  opinions 
reported. 

Lieutenant  Gannet  was  the  name  of  Jimmie's  superior  offi- 
cer. He  had  been  a  clerk  in  a  cotton-mill  before  the  war,  and 
had  never  had  the  exercise  of  authority.  Now  he  had  to  learn 
suddenly  to  give  orders,  and  his  idea  of  doing  it  was  to  be 
extremely  sharp  and  imperative.  He  was  a  deeply  conscientious 
young  man,  keen  on  the  war,  and  willing  to  face  any  hardship 
or  peril  in  fulfilment  of  his  duty;  but  Jimmie  could  not  have 
been  expected  to  appreciate  that — all  Jimmie  knew  was  that 
his  superior  had  a  way  of  glaring  from  behind  his  spectacles,  as 
if  he  was  sure  that  some  one  was  lying  to  him. 

Lieutenant  Gannet  didn't  ask  what  Jimmie  had  said;  he 
told  Jimmie  what  he  had  said,  and  informed  him  that  that  kind 
of  talk  wasn't  going  on  in  the  army  while  he  was  in  hearing. 
Jimmie's  business  was  to  keep  some  motor-cycles  in  repair, 
and  some  cyclists  on  their  job ;  about  other  matters  let  him  hold 
his  tongue,  and  not  try  to  run  the  affairs  of  the  nation.  Jim- 
mie ventured  the  remark  that  he  had  said  nothing  but  what 
President  Wilson  was  saying  all  along.  To  which  the  lieuten- 
ant replied  that  he  was  not  interested  in  Sergeant  Higgins* 
opinions  of  President  Wilson's  opinions — Sergeant  Higgins  was 
to  keep  his  opinions  to  himself,  or  he  would  get  into  serious 
trouble.  So  Jimmie  went  away,  seething  with  indignation,  as 
much  of  a  rebel  as  he  had  ever  been  in  Local  Leesville. 

What  were  the  rights  of  a  soldier  anyway?  Was  he  privi- 
leged to  discuss  political  issues,  and  to  agree  with  the  utter- 
ances of  the  President  of  his  country?  Might  he  believe,  as 
the  President  believed,  in  a  just  peace  and  the  right  of  all 
peoples  to  freedom  and  self-determination,  even  though  many 
of  the  officers  of  the  army  hated  and  despised  such  ideas? 
Jimmie  didn't  know,  and  there  was  nobody  to  tell  him;  but 
Jimmie  knew  that  he  hadn't  meant  to  give  up  his  rights  as  a 
citizen  when  he  enlisted  to  fight  for  democracy,  and  if  these 
rights  were  taken  away  from  him,  it  would  not  be  without  a 
struggle. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER     249 


iv; 

The  transports  came  into  the  region  of  ice-bergs,  and  low- 
hanging  mists,  and  rocky  cliffs  covered  with  snow,  and  flocks 
of  sea-gulls  flying  over  them.  For  days  and  nights  on  end  they 
steamed  in  those  arctic  waters,  and  came  at  last  into  the  White 
Sea,  and  the  harbour  of  Archangel. 

The  Allies  had  been  here  since  the  beginning  of  the  war, 
building  docks  and  sheds  and  railway  yards;  but  they  had 
never  been  able  to  build  enough,  and  the  transport  department 
of  the  corrupt  Russian  government  having  gone  to  pieces,  here 
were  mountains  of  supplies  of  every  sort  you  could  think  of 
for  an  army,  piled  high  on  the  shores.  At  least,  that  was  what 
Jimmie  had  been  told;  he  had  read  in  the  newspapers  that  the 
statement  was  made  officially  in  answer  to  questions  in  the 
British  parliament.  Jimmie  had  understood  that  he  was  here 
to  save  those  mountains  of  supplies  from  the  Germans,  and  he 
was  surprised  when  he  looked  about  the  harbour  and  saw  no 
mountains  of  any  sort. 

Back  in  the  interior  were  vast  trackless  forests  of  fir-trees, 
and  moss-covered  swamps  in  which  in  summer-time  a  man 
would  sink  up  to  his  neck.  Now,  in  September,  they  were  al- 
ready frozen  solid,  and  you  travelled  over  them  with  a  sledge 
and  a  team  of  reindeer,  bundled  up  in  furs  and  looking,  ex- 
cept for  the  whiskers,  like  the  pictures  of  Santa  Glaus  you  had 
seen  when  you  were  a  kid.  But  most  of  the  traffic  of  the  army 
was  upon  the  rivers  which  cut  the  forests  and  swamps,  and 
the  single  railroad,  which  was  being  put  back  into  commission. 

This  country  had,  of  course,  no  roads  on  which  motor-cycles 
could  be  used,  even  in  summer.  Jimmie  found  that  his  job 
would  be  confined  to  the  city  and  the  encampments  near  about. 
A  few  streets  would  be  kept  clear  of  snow,  and  the  little  band  of 
messengers  would  scoot  about  them,  now  and  then  taking  a 
slide  into  a  snow-bank  and  smashing  things  up.  That  would 
have  been  all  right,  and  Jimmie  would  have  bossed  the  job  and 
been  happy  as  he  knew  how  to  be — had  only  his  mind  been  at 
peace. 

For  the  first  few  days,  of  course,  he  had  no  time  to  think, 
he  was  as  busy  as  an  ant,  getting  himself  and  his  men  ashore, 
and  setting  up  their  benches  and  tools  in  an  iron  shed,  with  a 


250  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

roaring  stove  at  each,  end,  and  heaps  of  fire-wood  which  the 
peasants  brought  on  heavy  flat  sledges  dragged  hy  reindeer. 
Jimmie  and  his  unit  worked,  not  merely  during  the  hours  of 
daylight,  but  most  of  the  hours  of  darkness,  not  stopping  for 
Sundays.  There  were  five  thousand  men  to  be  got  ashore  with 
their  supplies — and  in  a  desperate  rush,  as  if  the  Germans  were 
expected  at  any  hour.  It  was  some  while  before  Jimmie  found 
time  to  go  about  the  city,  to  meet  the  "Tommies,"  who  had 
been  here  a  month  before  him,  and  to  hear  what  they  had  done, 
and  what  they  were  expecting  to  do. 

Jimmie  had  understood  that  this  expedition  was  to  fight 
the  Germans;  but  now  he  became  suspicious;  apparently  it 
was  to  fight  the  Bolsheviki !  The  social  revolution  had  accom- 
plished itself  in  Archangel,  and  a  council  of  workingmen  and 
peasants  had  been  in  full  control,  when  the  British  troops  and 
sailors  had  made  a  surprise  attack  and  seized  the  port,  driving 
the  revolutionists  in  confusion  before  them.  Now  they  were 
sending  an  expedition  up  the  railroad,  and  another  on  steamers 
up  the  North  Dwina  river,  pursuing  Eussian  Socialists  and 
driving  them  back  into  frozen  swamps !  And  here  were  Amer- 
ican troops,  being  hurried  ashore,  and  outfitted  and  made  ready 
to  join  in  what  seemed  to  Jimmie  to  be  warfare  upon  organised 
workingmen ! 

Jimmie  was  almost  beside  himself  with  bewilderment.  It 
was  all  so  new  and  strange  to  him — and  he  had  nobody  to  advise 
him.  At  home,  if  there  were  a  Socialist  problem  to  settle,  he 
would  take  it  to  Meissner  or  Stankewitz,  or  Comrade  Gerrity 
the  organiser,  or  Comrade  Mabel  Smith,  the  chairman  of  the 
Literature  Committee.  But  now,  in  all  this  expedition  Jimmie 
did  not  know  a  single  man  who  had  any  idea  of  radicalism; 
they  looked  upon  the  Bolsheviki  as  mad  dogs,  as  traitors,  crim- 
inals, lunatics,  any  word  that  seemed  worst  to  you.  The  Bol- 
sheviki had  deserted  the  cause  of  the  Allies,  they  had  gone  into 
league  with  Germany  to  betray  democracy;  so  now  the  Amer- 
icans had  come  to  teach  them  the  lesson  of  law  and  order.  The 
Americans  looked  upon  themselves  as  an  advance  guard  of  a 
vast  expedition  which  was  to  march  to  Petrograd  and  Moscow, 
and  wipe  the  idea  of  Bolshevism  off  the  map.  And  Jimmie 
Higgins  was  to  help!  Jimmie  Higgins,  bound  and  gagged, 
lashed  to  the  chariot  of  Militarism,  was  to  take  part  in  destroy- 
ing the  first  proletarian  government  in  history! 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER     251 

The  more  Jimmie  thought  of  it,  the  more  indignant  he  be- 
came; he  took  it  as  a  personal  outrage — a  scurvy  trick  that  had 
been  played  upon  him.  He  had  swallowed  their  propaganda,  he 
had  filled  himself  up  with  their  patriotism,  he  had  dropped 
everything  to  come  and  fight  for  Democracy.  He  had  gone 
into  battle,  had  risked  his  life,  had  suffered  wounds  and  agony 
for  them.  And  now  they  had  broken  their  bargain  with  him, 
they  had  brought  him  here  and  ordered  him  to  fight  working  men 
— just  as  if  he  had  been  a  militiaman  at  home!  Democracy 
indeed !  Here  they  were  marching  in,  glorying  in  their  purpose 
to  conquer  the  Russian  revolutionists! 

And  Jimmie  Higgins,  under  martial  law,  must  obey  and 
hold  his  tongue!  Jimmie  thought  of  all  his  friends  at  home 
who  had  denounced  the  military  machine;  he  thought  of  Com- 
rade Mary  Allen,  of  Comrade  Mabel  Smith  and  Comrade  Eve- 
lyn Baskerville  and  Comrade  Gerrity;  he  had  rejected  their 
advice,  and  now,  if  they  could  see  what  he  was  doing,  how  they 
would  spurn  him!  Jimmie  writhed  at  the  very  thought;  nor 
was  he  consoled  when  one  of  the  men  in  his  company  gave  him 
an  "inside"  story  of  what  was  happening  here — that  in  order  to 
persuade  the  British  to  submit  their  armies  to  the  control  of  a 
French  general,  and  thus  to  save  the  situation  in  France,  the 
Americans  had  been  forced  to  submit  their  own  armies  also; 
and  now  they  found  themselves  ordered  to  march  in  and  fight  a 
revolutionary  government  which  had  repudiated  its  debt  to 
France,  and  so  had  given  offence  to  a  naturally  frugal  people. 


Jimmie  met  a  man  whom  he  might  almost  have  taken  for 
Deror  Rabin,  so  much  did  he  resemble  the  little  Jewish  tailor. 
A  big,  black-whiskered  peasant  brought  a  load  of  wood  for  the 
fires;  and  there  was  a  Jew  helping  him — a  chap  with  a  sharp 
face  and  keen  black  eyes,  his  cheeks  sunken  as  if  he  had  not  had 
enough  to  eat  for  years,  and  his  chest  racked  by  a  cough.  He 
had  wrapped  his  feet  and  his  hands  in  rags,  because  he  had 
neither  boots  nor  gloves ;  but  he  seemed  cheerful,  and  presently, 
as  he  dumped  down  a  load,  he  nodded  and  said,  "Hello  I" 

"Hello  yourself  I"  replied  Jimmie. 

"I  speak  English,"  said  the  fellow. 

It  didn't  surprise  Jimmie  that  anybody  should  speak  Eng- 


252  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

lish;  he  was  only  surprised  when  they  didn't.  So  he  smiled 
and  said,  "Sure!" 

"I  been  in  America/'  went  on  the  other.  "I  vork  by  sveat- 
shop  in  Grand  Street." 

You  could  see  that  he  preferred  gossiping  to  carrying  wood ; 
he  stood  about  and  questioned,  "Vere  you  vork  in  America?" 
When  the  peasant  grumbled  at  him  in  Kussian,  he  went  back 
at  his  job ;  but  as  he  went  away,  he  said,  "I  talk  vit  you  some- 
time about  America."  To  which,  of  course,  Jimmie  answered 
with  a  friendly  assent. 

A  couple  of  hours  later,  when  he  went  out  from  his  work, 
he  found  the  little  Jew  waiting  for  him  in  the  darkness.  "I  git 
lonesome  sometime  for  America,"  he  said;  and  walked  down 
the  street  with  Jimmie,  beating  his  thin  arms  to  keep 
warm. 

"Why  did  you  come  back?"  Jimmie  inquired. 

"I  read  about  revolution.     I  tink  maybe  I  git  rich." 

"Huh!"  said  Jimmie,  and  grinned.     "What  did  you  get?" 

"You  belong  to  union  in  America?"  countered  the  other. 

"You  bet  I  do !"  said  Jimmie. 

"Vat  sort  of  union?" 

"Machinist's." 

"You  been  on  strike,  maybe?" 

"You  bet  I  have!" 

"You  got  licked,  maybe?" 

"You  bet!" 

"You  don't  never  scab,  hey?" 

"Not  much!" 

"You  vat  you  call  class-conscious?" 

"You  bet!    I'm  a  Socialist!" 

The  other  turned  upon  him,  his  voice  trembling  with  sudden 
excitement.  "You  got  a  red  card  ?" 

"You  bet !"  said  Jimmie.    "Eight  inside  my  coat." 

"My  God !"  cried  the  other.  "A  comrade !"  He  stretched 
out  his  hands,  which  were  bundled  up  with  old  gunny-sacking, 
to  Jimmie.  "Tovarish!"  cried  he.  And  standing  there  in  the 
freezing  darkness,  these  two  felt  their  hearts  leap  into  a  hot 
glow.  Here,  under  the  Arctic  Circle,  in  this  wilderness  of  ice 
and  desolation,  even  here  the  spirit  of  international  fraternity 
was  working  its  miracles ! 

But  then,  shaking  with  excitement,  the  little  Jew  pawed  at 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER     253 

Jimmie  with  his  bundled  hands.  "If  you  are  Socialist,  vy  you 
fight  de  Russian  vorkers?" 

"I'm  not  fighting  them!" 

"You  vear  de  uniform." 

"I'm  only  a  motor-cycle  man." 

"But  you  help !  You  kill  de  Russian  people !  You  destroy 
de  Soviets !  Vy  ?" 

"I  didn't  know  about  it,"  pleaded  Jimmie.  "I  wanted  to 
fight  the  Kaiser,  and  they  brought  me  here  without  telling  me." 

"Ah !  So  it  iss  vit  militarism,  vit  capitalism !  Ve  are  slaves ! 
But  ve  vill  be  free!  And  you  vill  help,  you  vill  not  kill  de 
Russian  vorkers !" 

"I  will  not!"  cried  Jimmie,  quickly. 

And  the  little  stranger  put  his  arm  through  Jimmie's.  "You 
come  vit  me,  quick !  I  show  you  someting,  tovarish !" 

vr 

They  threaded  the  dark  streets  till  they  came  to  a  row  of 
workingmen's  hovels,  made  of  logs,  the  cracks  stuffed  with  mud 
and  straw — places  in  which  an  American  farmer  would  not 
have  thought  it  proper  to  keep  his  cattle.  "So  live  de  vorkers/* 
said  the  stranger,  and  he  knocked  on  the  door  of  one  of  the 
hovels.  It  was  unbarred  by  a  woman  with  several  children 
about  her  skirts,  and  the  men  entered  a  cabin  lighted  by  a 
feeble,  smoky  lamp.  There  was  a  huge  oven  at  one  side,  with  a 
kettle  in  which  cabbage  was  cooking.  The  man  said  nothing 
to  the  woman,  but  signed  Jimmie  to  a  seat  before  the  oven,  and 
fixed  his  sharp  black  eyes  on  his  face. 

"You  show  me  de  red  card?"  he  said,  suddenly. 

Jimmie  took  off  his  sheep-skin-lined  overcoat,  and  un- 
buttoned his  sweater  underneath,  and  from  an  inside  pocket 
of  his  jacket  took  out  the  precious  card  with  the  due-stamps 
initialled  by  the  secretaries  of  Local  Leesville  and  Local  Hope- 
land  and  Local  Ironton.  The  stranger  studied  it,  then  nodded. 
"Good!  I  trust  you."  As  he  handed  back  the  card  he  re- 
marked, "My  name  is  Kalenkin.  I  am  Bolshevik." 

Jimmie's  heart  bounded — though  he  had  guessed  as  much, 
of  course.  "We  called  our  local  in  Ironton  Bolshevik,"  said 
he. 

"Dey  drive  us  out  from  here,"  continued  the  Jew,  "but  I 


254  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

stay  behind  for  propaganda.  I  look  for  comrades  among  de 
Americans,  de  British.  I  say,  Do  not  fight  de  vorkers,  fight  de 
masters,  de  capitalists.  You  understand?" 

"Sure  I"  said  Jimmie. 

"If  de  masters  find  me,  dey  kill  me.    But  I  trust  you/* 

"I'll  not  tell!"  said  Jimmie,  quickly. 

"You  help  me,"  went  on  the  other.  CfYou  go  to  de  Amer- 
ican soldiers,  you  say,  De  Eussian  people  have  been  slaves  so 
many  years;  now  dey  get  free,  and  you  come  to  kill  dem  and 
make  dem  slaves  again !  Vy  iss  it  ?  Vat  vill  dey  say,  tovarish  ?"* 

Jimmie  answered:  "They  say  they  want  to  lick  the  Kai- 
ser." 

"But  ve  help  to  lick  de  Kaiser!     Ve  fight  him!" 

"They  say  you've  made  peace  with  him." 

"Ve  fight  vit  propaganda — de  vay  de  Kaiser  fear  most  of 
all.  Ve  spend  millions  of  rubles,  ve  print  papers,  leaflets — you 
know,  comrade,  vat  Socialists  do.  Ve  send  dem  into  Germany, 
ve  drop  dem  by  aeroplanes,  ve  have  printing-presses  in — vat 
you  call  it,  de  Suisse,  de  Nederland — everyvere.  De  Germans 
read,  dey  tink,  dey  say,  Vy  do  ve  fight  for  de  Kaiser,  vy  do 
ve  not  be  free  like  de  Russians?  I  know  it,  tovarish,  I  have 
talked  vit  many  German  soldiers.  It  goes  like  a  fire  in  Ger- 
many. Maybe  it  take  time — a  year — two  years — but  some  day 
people  see,  de  Bolsheviki  vere  right,  dey  know  de  vorkers,  de 
heart  of  de  vorkers — dey  have  de  life,  de  fire  dat  cannot  be  put 
out  in  de  heart!" 

"Sure,"  said  Jimmie.  "But  you  can't  tell  things  like  that 
to  the  doughboys." 

"My  God!"  said  Kalenkin.  "Don't  I  know?  I  vas  in 
America !  Dey  tink  dey  are  de  people  vat  de  good  God  made ! 
Dey  know  ever'ting — you  cannot  teach  dem.  Dey  are  democ- 
racy; dey  have  no  classes;  vage-slaves — dat  iss  just  foreign — 
vat  you  call  it — scum,  hey  ?  Dey  vill  shoot  us — I  have  seen  how 
dey  beat  de  vorkers  ven  dey  strike  on  Grand  Street." 

"I've  been  through  it  all,"  said  Jimmie.  "What  can  we 
do?" 

"Propaganda !"  cried  Kalenkin.  "For  de  first  time  ve  have 
plenty  money  for  propaganda — all  de  money  in  Russia  for  propa- 
ganda! Ever'vere  in  de  vorld  ve  reach  de  vorkers — ever'vere 
ve  cry  to  dem :  Rise !  Rise  and  break  your  chains !  You  tink 
ciey  vill  not  hear  us,  tovarish !  De  capitalists  know  dey  vill  hear 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER     255 

us,  dey  tremble,  so  dey  send  armies  to  beat  us.  Dey  tink  de 
armies  vill  obey — alvays — is  it  not  so?" 

"They  think  the  Eussian  people  will  rise  against  you." 

At  which  the  little  man  laughed,  a  wild,  hilarious  laugh. 
"Ve  have  got  our  own  government !  For  de  first  time  in  Rus- 
sia, de  first  time  in  de  vorld,  de  vorkers  rule;  and  dey  tink  ve 
rise  against  ourselves!  Dey  put  up — vat  you  call  it — puppets, 
vat  dey  call  Socialists,  dey  make  a  government  here  in  Archangel, 
vat  dey  call  Russian!  Dey  fool  demselves,  but  dey  don't  fool 
de  Russians !" 

"They  think  this  government  will  spread,"  said  Jimmie. 

"It  vill  spread  just  so  far  as  de  armies  go — just  so  far. 
But  in  Russia,  all  de  people  come  together — all  are  Bolsheviki, 
ven  dey  see  de  foreign  armies  coming.  And  vy,  tovarish  ?  Be- 
cause dey  know  vat  it  means  ven  capitalists  come  to  make  new 
governments  for  Russia.  It  means  bonds— de  French,  de 
British  debt !  You  know  ?" 

"Sure,  I  know,"  said  Jimmie. 

"It  is  billions,  fifteen  billions  of  roubles  to  France  alone. 
De  Bolsheviki  have  said,  Ve  do  not  pay  dem  so  quick.  And  for 
vy  ?  Vat  did  dey  do  vit  dat  money !  Dey  loaned  it  to  de  Tsar,  and 
for  vat?  To  make  slaves  out  of  de  Russian  people,  to  put  dem 
in  armies  and  make  dem  fight  de  Japanese,  to  make  police-force 
and  send  hundert  thousand  Russian  Socialists  to  Siberia!  Is 
it  not  so?  And  Russian  Socialists  pay  such  debts?  Not  so 
quick!  Ve  say,  Ve  had  nothing  to  do  vit  such  money!  You 
loaned  it  to  de  Tsar,  now  you  collect  it  from  de  Tsar !  But  dey 
say,  You  must  pay!  And  dey  send  armies.,  to  take  de  land  of 
Russia,  to  take  de  oil  and  de  coal  and  de  gold.  So,  tovarish !  Dey 
vill  put  down  de  Soviets !  But  if  so,  dey  must  take  ever'  town, 
ever*  village  in  Russia — and  all  de  time  ve  make  propaganda 
vit  de  soldiers,  ve  make  it  vit  Frenchmen  and  Englishmen  and 
Americans,  just  like  ve  make  it  vit  Germans !" 


VII 

The  little  man  had  made  a  long  speech,  and  was  exhausted ; 
the  coughing  seized  him,  and  he  pressed  his  hands  to  his  chest, 
and  his  white  face  flushed  red  in  the  firelight.  The  woman 
brought  him  water  to  drink,  and  stood  by  him  with  a  hand  on 
his  shoulder;  her  broad  peasant's  face,  deeply  lined  with  care, 


256  JIMMIB  HIGGINS 

quivered  at  every  spasm  of  the  man's.  Jimmie  quivered  too, 
sitting  there  watching,  and  facing  in  his  own  soul  a  mighty 
destiny.  He  knew  the  situation  now,  he  knew  his  own  duty. 
It  was  perfectly  plain,  perfectly  simple — his  whole  life  had 
been  one  long  training  for  it.  Something  cried  out  in  him, 
in  the  words  of  another  proletarian  martyr,  Let  this  cup  pass 
from  me !  But  he  stifled  the  voice  of  his  weakness,  and  after  a 
while  he  said,  "Tell  me  what  to  do,  comrade." 

Kalenkin  asked,  "You  have  made  propaganda  in  America?" 

"Sure,"  said  Jimmie.  "I  went  to  jail  once  fer  makin'  a 
speech  on  the  street." 

And  the  other  went  to  a  corner  of  the  cabin,  and  dug  under 
half  a  dozen  cabbages,  and  brought  out  a  packet.  It  contained 
leaflets,  a  couple  of  hundred  perhaps,  and  the  Jew  handed  one 
to  Jimmie,  explaining,  "Dey  ask  me,  How  shall  ve  make  de 
Americans  understand?  I  say,  Dey  must  know  how  ve  make 
propaganda  vit  de  Germans.  I  say,  Print  de  proclamations  vat 
ve  give  to  de  German  troops,  and  make  English  translation,  so 
de  Americans  and  de  Englishmen  can  read.  You  tink  dat  help  ? 

Jimmie  took  the  leaflet  and  moved  the  lamp  a  bit  nearer 
and  read : 

"Proclamation  of  the  Army   Committee   of  the   Kussian 
Twelfth  Army  (Bolshevik),  posted  throughout  the  city  of  Riga 
during  its  evacuation  by  the  Kussians: 
"German  Soldiers! 

"The  Russian  soldiers  of  the  Twelfth  Army  draw  your 
attention  to  the  fact  that  you  are  carrying  on  a  war  for 
autocracy  against  Revolution,  freedom  and  justice.  The 
victory  of  Wilhelm  will  be  death  to  democracy  and  freedom. 
We  withdraw  from  Riga,  but  we  know  that  the  forces  of 
the  Revolution  will  ultimately  prove  themselves  more  power- 
ful than  the  force  of  cannons.  We  know  that  in  the  long 
run  your  conscience  will  overcome  everything,  and  that  the 
German  soldiers,  with  the  Russian  Revolutionary  Army, 
will  march  to  the  victory  of  freedom.  You  are  at  present 
stronger  than  we  are,  but  yours  is  only  the  victory  of 
brute  force.  The  moral  force  is  on  our  side.  History 
will  tell  that  the  German  proletarians  went  against  their 
revolutionary  brothers,  and  that  they  forgot  international 
working-class  solidarity.  This  crime  you  can  expiate  only 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  ENTERS  INTO  DANGER     257 

by  one  means.  You  must  understand  your  own  and  at  the 
same  time  the  universal  interests,  and  strain  all  your 
immense  power  against  imperialism,  and  go  hand  in  hand 
with  us — toward  life  and  liberty!" 

Jimmie  looked  up. 

"Vat  you  tink  of  it?"  cried  Kalenkin,  eagerly. 

"Fine!"  cried  Jimmie.  "The  very  thing  they  need!  No- 
body can  object  to  that.  It's  a  fact,  it's  what  the  Bolsheviki 
are  doing." 

The  other  smiled  grimly.  "Tovarish,  if  dey  find  you  vit 
dat  paper,  dey  shoot  you  like  a  dog !  Dey  shoot  us  all  I" 

"But  why?" 

"Because  it  is  Bolshevik." 

Jimmie  wanted  to  say,  But  it's  true !  However,  he  realised 
how  naive  that  would  sound.  So  he  waited,  while  Kalenkin 
went  on: 

"You  show  it  only  to  men  you  can  trust.  You  hide  de 
copies,  you  take  vun  and  make  it  dirty,  so  you  say,  I  find  it  in 
de  street.  See,  iss  it  so  de  Bolsheviki  fight  de  Kaiser?  If  it 
iss  so,  vy  do  ve  need  to  fight  dem?  So  you  give  dese;  and  some 
day  I  come  vit  someting  new/' 

Jimmie  agreed  that  that  was  the  way  to  set  about  it.  He 
folded  up  a  score  of  the  leaflets  and  stowed  them  in  an  inside 
pocket  of  his  jacket,  and  put  on  his  heavy  overcoat  and  gloves, 
which  he  wished  he  could  give  to  the  sick,  half -starved  and  half- 
frozen  Bolshevik.  He  patted  him  reassuringly  on  the  back,  and 
said :  "You  trust  me,  comrade ;  I'll  hand  them  out,  and  the/ll 
bring  results  too,  I'll  bet." 

"You  don't  tell  about  me !"  exclaimed  Kalenkin  with  fierce 
intensity. 

To  which  Jimmie  answered,  "Not  if  they  boil  me  alive!" 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DISCOVERS  HIS  SOUL 


TIMMIE  went  to  supper  in  the  mess-hall;  but  the  piles  of 
**  steaming  hot  food  choked  him — he  was  thinking  of  the  half- 
starved  little  Jew.  The  thirty  pieces  of  silver  in  the  pocket  of 
his  army  jacket  burned  each  a  separate  hole.  Like  the  Judas 
of  old,  he  wanted  to  hang  himself,  and  he  took  a  quick  method 
of  doing  it. 

Next  to  him  at  the  table  sat  a  motor-cyclist  who  had  been  a 
union  plumber  before  the  war,  and  had  agreed  with  Jimmie 
that  workingmen  were  going  to  get  their  jobs  back  or  would 
make  the  politicians  sweat  for  it.  On  the  way  out  from  the 
meal,  Jimmie  edged  this  fellow  off  and  remarked,  "Say,  I've 
got  soinethin'  interestin'." 

Now  interesting  things  were  rare  here  under  the  Arctic 
Circle.  "What's  that?"  asked  the  plumber. 

"I  was  walkin'  on  the  street,"  said  Jimmie,  "an*  I  seen  a 
printed  paper  in  the  gutter.  It's  a  copy  of  the  proclamation 
the  Bolsheviki  have  made  to  the  German  soldiers,  an'  that 
they're  givin'  out  in  the  German  trenches." 

"By  heck !"  said  the  plumber.     "What's  in  it  ?" 

"Why,  it  calls  on  them  to  rise  against  the  Kaiser — to  do  what 
the  Russians  have  done." 

"Can  you  read  German  ?"  asked  the  other. 

"Naw,"  said  Jimmie.     "This  is  in  English." 

"But  what's  it  doin'  in  English?" 

"I'm  sure  I  dunno." 

"What's  it  doin'  in  Archangel?" 

"Dunno  that  either." 

"Holy  Christ !"  cried  the  plumber.  "I  bet  them  fellers  are 
trying  their  stunts  on  us !" 

258 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DISCOVEKS  HIS  SOUL      259 1 

4 

"I  hadn't  thought  of  that,"  said  Jimmie,  subtly.  "Mayhe 
it's  so." 

"They  won't  get  very  far  with  the  Yanks,  I  bet/'  predicted 
the  other. 

"No,  I  suppose  not,  But  anyhow,  if  s  interesting,  what  they 
say." 

"Lemme  see  it,"  said  the  plumber. 

"But  say,"  said  Jimmie,  "don't  you  tell  nobody.  I  don't 
want  to  get  into  trouble." 

"Mum's  the  word,  old  man."  And  the  plumber  took  the 
dirty  scrap  of  paper  and  read.  "By  God!"  said  he.  "That's 
kind  o'  funny." 

"How  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Why,  that  don't  sound  like  them  fellers  were  backing  the 
Kaiser,  does  it?"  And  the  plumber  scratched  his  head.  "Say, 
that  sounds  all  right  to  me !" 

"Me  too !"  said  Jimmie.  "Didn't  know  they  had  that  much 
sense." 

"It's  just  what  the  German  people  ought  to  have,  by  God," 
said  the  plumber.  "Seems  to  me  we  ought  to  hire  fellows  to 
give  out  things  like  that." 

"I  think  so  too,"  said  Jimmie,  enraptured. 

The  plumber  reflected  again.  "I  suppose,"  said  he,  "the 
trouble  is  they  wouldn't  give  it  to  the  Germans  only ;  they'd  want 
to  give  it  to  both  sides." 

"Exactly !"  said  Jimmie,  enraptured  still  more.  -I 

"And  of  course  that  wouldn't  do,"  said  the  plumber;  "that 
would  interfere  with  discipline."  So  Jimmie's  hopes  were 
dashed. 

But  the  upshot  of  the  interview  was  that  the  plumber  said 
he  would  like  to  keep  the  paper  and  show  it  to  a  couple  of  other 
fellows.  He  promised  again  that  he  wouldn't  mention  Jimmie, 
so  Jimmie  said  all  right,  and  went  his  way,  feeling  that  one  seed 
was  lodged  in  good  soil. 

II 

The  "Y"  had  come  to  Archangel,  along  with  the  rest  of 
the  expedition,  and  had  set  up  a  hut,  in  which  the  men  played 
checkers  and  read,  and  bought  chocolate  and  cigarettes  at  prices 
which  they  considered  too  high.  Jimmie  strolled  in,  and  there 
was  a  doughboy  with  whom  he  had  had  some  chat  on  the  trans- 


260  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

port.  This  doughboy  had  been  a  printer  at  home,  and  he  had 
agreed  with  Jimmie  that  maybe  a  whole  lot  of  politicians  and 
newspaper  editors  didn't  really  understand  President  Wilson's 
radical  thought,  and  so  far  as  they  did  understand  it,  hated  and 
feared  it.  This  printer  was  reading  one  of  the  popular  maga- 
zines, full  of  the  intellectual  pap  which  a  syndicate  of  big  bank- 
ers considered  safe  for  the  common  people.  He  looked  bored,  so 
Jimmie  strolled  up  and  lured  him  away,  and  repeated  his  play- 
acting as  with  the  plumber — and  with  the  same  result. 

Then  he  strolled  in  to  see  one  of  the  picture-shows  which  had 
been  brought  along  to  beguile  the  long  arctic  nights  for  the 
expedition.  The  picture  showed  a  million-dollar-a-year  girl 
doll-baby  in  her  habitual  role,  a  poor  little  child-waif  dressed  in 
the  newest  fashion  and  with  a  row  of  ringlets  just  out  of  a  band- 
box, sharing  those  terrible  fates  which  the  poor  take  as  an 
every-day  affair,  and  being  rewarded  at  the  end  by  the  love  of 
a  rich  and  noble  and  devoted  youth  who  solves  the  social  prob- 
lem by  setting  her  up  in  a  palace.  This  also  had  met  with  the 
approval  of  a  syndicate  of  bankers  before  it  reached  the  common 
people;  and  in  the  very  midst  of  it,  while  the  child-waif  with 
the  ringlets  was  being  shown  in  a  "close-up"  with  large  drops 
of  water  running  down  her  cheeks,  the  doughboy  in  the  seat 
next  to  Jimmie  remarked,  "Aw,  hell!  Why  do  they  keep  on 
giving  us  this  bunk?" 

So  Jimmie  suggested  that  they  "cut  it,"  and  they  went  out, 
and  Jimmie  played  his  little  game  a  third  time,  and  again  was 
asked  to  leave  the  leaflet  he  had  picked  out  of  the  gutter. 

So  on  for  two  days,  until  Jimmie  had  got  rid  of  the  last 
of  the  manifestoes  which  Kalenkin  had  entrusted  to  him.  And 
on  the  evening  of  the  last  day,  as  the  subtle  propagandist  was 
about  to  turn  into  his  bunk  for  the  night,  there  suddenly  ap- 
peared a  sergeant  with  a  file  of  half  a  dozen  men  and  announced, 
"Higgins,  you  are  under  arrest." 

Jimmie  stared  at  him.     "What  for?" 

"Orders— that's  all  I  know." 

"Well,  wait "  began  Jimmie;  but  the  other  said  there 

was  no  wait  about  it,  and  he  took  Jimmie  by  the  arm,  and  one 
of  the  other  men  took  him  by  the  other  arm,  and  marched  him 
away.  A  third  man  slung  Jimmie's  kit-bag  onto  his  shoulder, 
while  the  rest  began  to  search  the  place,  ripping  open  the  mat- 
tress and  looking  for  loose  boards  in  the  floor. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DISCOVEES  HIS  SOUL       261 


in 

It  didn't  take  Jimmie  very  long  to  figure  out  the  situation. 
By  the  time  he  had  come  into  the  presence  of  Lieutenant  Gannet, 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  what  had  happened,  and  what  he 
would  do  about  it. 

The  lieutenant  sat  at  a  table,  erect  and  stiff,  with  a  terrible 
frown  behind  his  glasses.  He  had  his  sword  on  the  table  and 
also  his  automatic — as  if  he  intended  to  execute  Jimmie,  and 
had  only  to  decide  which  method  to  use. 

"Higgins,"  he  thundered,  "where  did  you  get  that  leaflet?" 

"I  found  it  in  the  gutter/' 

"You  lie !"  said  the  lieutenant. 

"No,  sir/'  said  Jimmie. 

"How  many  did  you  find  ?" 

Jimmie  had  imagined  this  emergency,  and  decided  to  play 
safe.  "Three,  sir,"  said  he;  and  added,  "I  think/' 

"You  lie !"  thundered  the  lieutenant  again. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Jimmie,  meekly. 

"Whom  did  you  give  them  to?" 

Jimmie  hadn't  thought  of  that  question.  It  stumped  him. 
"I — I'd  rather  not  say,"  said  he. 

"I  command  you  to  say,"  said  the  lieutenant. 

"I'm  sorry,  sir,  but  I  couldnt." 

"You'll  have  to  say  before  you  get  through,"  said  the  other. 
"You  might  as  well  understand  that  now.  You  say  you  found 
three?" 

It  might  have  been  four,"  said  Jimmie,  playing  still  safer. 
"I  didn't  pay  any  particular  attention  to  them." 

"You  sympathise  with  these  doctrines,"  said  the  lieutenant. 
"Do  you  deny  it?" 

"Why,  no,  sir — not  exactly.  I  sympathise  with  part  of 
them." 

"And  you  found  these  leaflets  in  the  gutter,  and  you  didn't 
take  the  trouble  to  count  whether  there  were  three  or  four?" 

"No,  sir." 

"There  couldn't  have  been  five?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir — I  don't  think  so." 

"Certainly  not  six?" 

"No,  sir,"  said  Jimmie,  feeling  quite  safe  now.  "Fm  sure 
there  weren't  six." 


262  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

So  the  lieutenant  opened  a  drawer  in  the  table  before  him,, 
and  took  out  a  bunch  of  the  leaflets,  folded,  wrinkled  and  dirt- 
stained,  and  spread  them  before  Jimmie's  eyes,  one,  two>  three,, 
four,  five,  six,  seven.  "You  lie !"  said  the  lieutenant. 

"I  was  mistaken,  sir,"  said  Jimmie. 

"Have  you  searched  this  man  ?"  the  officer  demanded  of  the 
other  soldiers. 

"Not  yet,  sir." 

"Do  it  now." 

They  made  certain  that  Jimmie  had  no  weapons,  and  then 
they  made  him  strip  to  the  skin.  They  searched  everything, 
even  prying  loose  the  soles  of  his  boots;  and  of  course  one  of 
the  first  things  they  found  was  the  red  card  in  the  inside  jacket- 
pocket.  "Aha !"  cried  the  lieutenant. 

"That's  a  card  of  the  Socialist  party,"  said  Jimmie. 

"Don't  you  know  that  back  home  men  who  carry  that  card 
are  being  sent  to  jail  for  twenty  years?" 

"It  ain't  fer  carryin'  the  card,"  said  Jimmie,  sturdily. 

There  was  a  pause,  while  Jimmie  got  his  clothes  on  again- 
"Now,  Higgins,"  said  the  lieutenant,  "you  have  been  caught 
red-handed  in  treason  against  your  country  and  its  flag.  The 
penalty  is  death.  There  is  just  one  way  you  can  escape — by 
making  a  clean  breast  of  everything.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Then  tell  me  who  gave  you  those  leaflets  ?" 

"I'm  sorry,  sir,  I  found  them  in  the  gutter." 

"You  intend  to  stick  to  that  silly  tale?" 

"It's  the  truth,  sir." 

"You  will  protect  your  fellow-conspirators  with  your  life?'* 

"I  have  told  you  all  I  know,  sir." 

"All  right,"  said  the  lieutenant.  He  took  a  pair  of  hand- 
cuffs from  the  drawer  and  saw  them  put  on  Jimmie.  He  picked 
up  his  sword  and  his  automatic — and  Jimmie,  who  did  not 
understand  military  procedure,  stared  with  fright.  But  the 
lieutenant  was  merely  intending  to  strap  the  weapons  onto  his 
belt;  then  he  got  into  his  overcoat  and  his  big  fur  gloves  and 
his  fur  hat  that  covered  everything  but  his  eyes  and  nose,  and 
ordered  Jimmie  brought  along.  Outside  an  automobile  was 
waiting,  and  the  officer  and  the  prisoner  and  two  guards  rode 
to  the  military  jail. 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DISCOVERS  HIS  SOUL       263 


IV 

There  was  terror  in  the  soul  of  the  prisoner,  but  he  did  not 
let  anyone  see  it.  And  in  the  same  way  Lieutenant  Gannet  did 
not  let  anyone  see  the  perplexity  that  was  in  his  soul.  He  was  a 
military  officer,  he  had  his  stern  military  duty  to  do,  and  he  was 
doing  it ;  but  he  had  never  put  anybody  in  hand-cuffs  before,  and 
had  never  taken  anybody  to  jail  before,  and  he  was  almost  as 
much  upset  about  it  as  the  prisoner. 

The  lieutenant  had  seen  the  terrible  spectacle  of  Eussia  col- 
lapsing, falling  into  ruin  and  humiliation,  because  of  what 
seemed  to  him  a  propaganda  of  treason  which  had  been  carried 
on  in  her  armies;  he  realized  that  these  "mad  dogs"  of  Bol- 
sheviki  were  deliberately  conspiring  to  poison  the  other  armies, 
to  bring  the  rest  of  the  world  into  their  condition.  It  seemed 
to  him  monstrous  that  such  efforts  should  be  under  way  in  the 
American  army.  How  far  had  the  thing  gone  ?  The  lieutenant 
did  not  know,  and  he  was  terrified,  as  men  always  are  in  the 
presence  of  the  unknown.  It  was  his  plain  duty,  to  which  he 
had  sworn  himself,  to  stamp  his  heel  upon  the  head  of  this  snake ; 
but  still  he  was  deeply  troubled.  This  Sergeant  Higgins  had 
been  promoted  for  valor  in  France,  and  had  been,  in  spite  of  his 
reckless  tongue,  a  pretty  decent  subordinate.  And  behold,  here 
he  was,  an  active  conspirator,  a  propagandist  of  sedition,  a  defi- 
ant and  insolent  traitor! 

They  came  to  the  jail,  which  had  been  constructed  by  the 
Tsar  for  the  purpose  of  holding  down  the  people  of  the  region. 
It  loomed,  a  gigantic  stone  bulk  in  the  darkness ;  and  Jimrnie, 
who  had  preached  in  Local  Leesville  that  America  was  worse 
than  Russia,  now  learned  that  he  had  been  mistaken — Russia  was 
exactly  the  same. 

They  entered  through  a  stone  gateway,  and  a  steel  door 
opened  before  them  and  clanged  behind  them.  At  a  desk  sat  a 
sergeant,  and  except  that  he  was  British,  and  that  his  uniform 
was  brown  instead  of  blue,  it  might  have  been  Leesville,  U.  S.  A. 
They  took  down  Jimmie's  name  and  address,  and  then  Lieu- 
tenant Gannet  asked:  "Has  Perkins  come  yet?" 

"Not  yet,  sir/'  was  the  reply;  but  at  that  moment  the  front 
door  was  opened,  and  there  entered  a  big  man,  bundled  in  an 
overcoat  which  made  him  even  bigger.  From  the  first  moment, 
Jimmie  watched  this  man  as  a  fascinated  rabbit  watches  a  snake. 


264  JIMMIE  HIG-GINS 

The  little  Socialist  had  had  so  much  to  do  with  policemen  and 
detectives  in  his  hunted  life  that  he  knew  in  a  flash  what  he 
was  "up  against." 


This  Perkins  before  the  war  had  been  an  "operative"  for  a 
private  detective  agency — what  the  workers  contemptuously  re- 
ferred to  as  a  "sleuth."  The  government,  having  found  itself 
in  sudden  need  of  much  "sleuthing,"  had  been  forced  to  take 
what  help  it  could  get,  without  too  close  scrutiny.  So  now 
Perkins  was  a  sergeant  in  the  secret  service ;  and  just  as  the  car- 
penters were  hammering  nails  as  at  home,  and  the  surgeons  were 
cutting  flesh  as  at  home,  so  Perkins  was  "sleuthing"  as  at  home. 

"Well,  sergeant  ?"  said  the  lieutenant.    "What  have  you  got  ?" 

"I  think  I've  got  the  story,  sir." 

You  could  see  the  relief  in  Gannet's  face ;  and  Jimmie's  heart 
went  down  into  his  boots. 

"There's  just  one  or  two  details  I  want  to  make  sure  about," 
continued  Perkins.  "I  suppose  you  won't  mind  if  I  question 
this  prisoner?" 

"Oh,  not  at  all,"  said  the  other.  He  was  relieved  to  be  able 
to  turn  this  difficult  matter  over  to  a  man  of  decision,  a  pro- 
fessional man,  who  was  used  to  such  cases  and  knew  how  to 
handle  them. 

"I'll  report  to  you  at  once,"  said  Perkins. 

"I'll  wait,"  said  the  lieutenant. 

And  Perkins  took  Jimmie's  trembling  arm  in  a  grip  like 
a  vise,  and  marched  him  down  a  long  stone  corridor  and  down 
a  flight  of  steps.  On  the  way  he  picked  up  two  other  men,  also 
in  khaki,  who  followed  him;  the  four  passed  through  a  series 
of  underground  passages,  and  entered  a  stone  cell  with  a  solid 
steel  door,  which  they  clanged  behind  them — a  sound  that  was 
like  the  knell  of  doom  to  poor  Jimmie's  terrified  soul.  And 
instantly  Sergeant  Perkins  seized  him  by  the  shoulder  and 
whirled  him  about,  and  glared  into  his  eyes.  "Now,  you  little 
6on-of-a-bitch !"  said  he. 

Having  been  a  detective  in  an  American  city,  this  man  was 
familiar  with  the  "third  degree,"  whereby  prisoners  are  led  to 
tell  what  they  know,  and  many  things  which  they  don't  know, 
but  which  they  know  the  police  want  them  to  tell.  Of  the 
other  two  men,  one,  Private  Connor,  had  had  this  inquisition 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DISCOVEES  HIS  SOUL       265 

applied  to  him  on  more  than  one  occasion.  He  was  a  burglar 
with  a  prison-record;  but  his  last  arrest  had  been  in  a  middle 
Western  town  for  taking  part  in  a  bar-room  fight,  and  the  judge 
didn't  happen  to  know  his  record,  and  accepted  his  tearful  plea, 
agreeing  to  suspend  sentence  provided  the  prisoner  would  enlist 
to  fight  for  his  country. 

The  other  man  was  named  Grady,  and  had  left  a  wife  and 
three  children  in  a  tenement  in  "Hell's  Kitchen,"  New  York> 
to  come  to  fight  the  Kaiser.  He  was  a  kind-hearted  and  decent 
Irishman,  who  had  earned  a  hard  living  carrying  bricks  and 
mortar  up  a  ladder  ten  hours  a  day ;  but  he  was  absolutely  con- 
vinced that  there  existed,  somewhere  under  his  feet,  a  hell  of 
brimstone  and  sulphur  in  which  he  would  roast  forever  if  he 
disobeyed  the  orders  of  those  who  were  set  in  authority  over  him. 
Grady  knew  that  there  were  certain  wicked  men,  hating  and 
slandering  religion,  and  luring  millions  of  souls  into  hell;  they 
were  called  Socialists,  or  Anarchists,  and  must  obviously  be 
emissaries  of  Satan,  so  it  was  God's  work  to  root  them  out  and 
destroy  them.  Thus  the  Gradys  have  reasoned  for  a  thousand 
years ;  and  thus  in  black  dungeons  underground  they  have  turned 
the  thumb-screws  and  pulled  the  levers  of  the  rack.  They  do  it 
still  in  many  of  the  large  cities  of  America,  where  superstition 
runs  the  police-force,  in  combination  with  liquor  interests  and 
public  service  corporations. 

VI 

"Now,  you  little  son-of-a-bitch/'  said  Perkins,  "listen  to  me. 
"I  been  lookin'  into  this  business  of  yours,  and  I  got  the  names 
of  most  of  them  Bolsheviks  you  been  dealing  with.  But  I  want 
to  know  them  all,  and  I'm  going  to  know — see?" 

In  spite  of  all  his  terror,  Jimmie's  heart  leaped  with  exulta- 
tion. Perkins  was  lying !  He  hadn't  found  out  a  thing !  He 
was  just  trying  to  bluff  his  prisoner,  and  to  make  his  superior 
officer  think  he  was  a  real  "sleuth".  He  was  doing  what  the 
police  everywhere  do — trying  to  obtain  by  brutality  what  they 
cannot  obtain  by  skill  and  intelligence. 

"Now,  you're  goin'  to  tell,"  continued  the  man.  "You  may 
think  you  can  hold  out,  but  you'll  find  it's  no  go.  I'll  tear  you 
limb  from  limb  if  you  make  me — I'll  do  just  whatever  I  have 
to  do  to  make  you  come  through.  You  get  me?" 


266  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Jimmie  nodded  his  head  in  a  sort  of  spasm,  but  his  effort 
to  make  a  sound  resulted  only  in  a  gulp  in  his  throat. 

"You'll  only  make  yourself  a  lot  of  pain  if  you  delay,  so 
you'd  better  be  sensible.  Now — who  are  they?" 

"They  ain't  anybody.    They " 

"So  that's  it?  Well,  we'll  see."  And  the  sergeant  swung 
Jimmie  about,  so  as  to  be  at  his  back.  "Hold  him,"  he  said, 
to  the  two  men,  and  they  grasped  the  prisoner's  shoulders;  the 
sergeant  grasped  his  two  wrists,  which  were  handcuffed  together, 
and  began  to  force  them  up  Jimmie's  back. 
I  "Ow !"  cried  Jimmie.  "Stop !  Stop  I" 

"Will  you  tell?"  said  the  sergeant. 

"Stop!"  cried  Jimmie,  wildly;  and  as  the  other  pushed 
harder,  he  began  to  scream.  "You'll  break  my  arm !  The  one 
that  was  wounded." 

"Wounded  ?"  said  the  sergeant. 

"It  was  broken  by  a  bullet !" 

•"The  hell  you  say !"  said  the  sergeant. 

"It's  true— ask  anybody!  The  battle  of  Chatty  Terry  in 
France!" 

For  just  a  moment  the  pressure  on  Jimmie's  arms  weak- 
ened ;  but  then  the  sergeant  remembered  that  military  men  who 
have  a  career  to  make  do  not  go  to  their  superior  officers  with 
sentimentalities.  "If  you  were  wounded  in  battle,"  said  the 
sergeant,  "what  you  turnin'  traitor  for?  Give  me  the  names  I 
want!"  And  he  began  to  push  again. 

It  was  the  most  horrible  agony  that  Jimmie  had  ever 
dreamed  of.  His  voice  rose  to  a  shriek:  "Wait!  Wait! 
Listen !"  The  torturer  would  relax  the  pressure  and  say :  "The 
names  ?"  And  when  Jimmie  did  not  give  the  names,  he  would 
press  harder  yet.  Jimmie  writhed  convulsively,  but  the  other 
two  men  held  him  as  in  a  vise.  He  pleaded,  he  sobbed  and 
moaned;  but  the  walls  of  this  dungeon  had  been  made  so  that 
the  owners  of  property  outside  would  not  be  troubled  by  knowing 
what  was  being  done  in  their  interest. 

We  go  into  museums  and  look  at  devilish  instruments  which 
men  once  employed  for  the  torment  of  their  fellows,  and  we 
shudder  and  congratulate  ourselves  that  we  live  in  more  humane 
days;  quite  overlooking  the  fact  that  it  does  not  need  elaborate 
Instruments  to  inflict  pain  on  the  human  body.  Any  man  can 
do  it  to  another,  if  he  has  him  helpless.  The  thing  that  ia 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DISCOVERS  HIS  SOUL       267 

needed  is  the  motive — that  is  to  say,  some  form  of  privilege 
established  by  law,  and  protecting  itself  against  rebellion. 

"Tell  me  the  names  I"  said  the  sergeant.  He  had  Jimmied 
two  hands  forced  up  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  was  lying  over  on 
.Jimmie,  pushing,  pushing.  Jimmie  was  blinded  with  the  pain, 
his  whole  being  convulsed.  It  was  too  horrible,  it  could  not  be ! 
Anything,  anything  to  stop  it!  A  voice  shrieked  in  his  soul: 
"Tell !  Tell !"  But  then  he  thought  of  the  little  Jew,  pitiful, 
trusting — no,  no,  he  would  not  tell!  He  would  never  tell! 
But  then  what  was  he  to  do?  Endure  this  horror?  He  could 
not  endure  it — it  was  monstrous ! 

He  would  writhe  and  scream,  babble  and  plead  and  sob. 
Perhaps  there  have  been  men  who  have  endured  torture  with 
dignity,  but  Jimmie  was  not  one  of  these.  Jimmie  was  abject, 
Jimmie  was  frantic ;  he  did  anything,  everything  he  could  think 
of — save  one  thing,  the  thing  that  Perkins  kept  telling  him  to  do. 

This  went  on  until  the  sergeant  was  out  of  breath :  that  being 
one  disadvantage  of  the  primitive  hand-processes  of  torture  to 
which  American  police-officials  have  been  reduced  by  political 
eentimentalism.  The  torturer  lost  his  temper,  and  began  to 
shake  and  twist  at  Jimmie's  arms,  so  that  Connor  had  to  warn 
him — he  didn't  want  to  break  anything,  of  course. 

So  Perkins  said,  "Put  his  head  down."  They  bent  Jimmie 
over  till  his  head  was  on  the  ground,  and  Grady  tied  Jimmie's 
legs  to  keep  them  quiet,  and  Connor  held  his  neck  fast,  and 
Perkins  put  his  foot  on  the  handcuffs  and  pressed  down.  By 
this  means  he  could  continue  the  torture  while  standing  erect 
and  breathing  freely,  a  great  relief  to  him.  "Now,  damn  you !" 
said  he.  "I  can  stay  here  all  night.  Come  through  I" 


VII 

Jimmie  thought  that  each  moment  of  pain  was  the  worst. 
He  had  never  had  any  idea  that  pain  could  endure  so  long,  could 
burn  with  such  a  white  and  searing  flame.  He  ground  his  teeth 
together,  he  chewed  his  tongue  through,  he  ground  his  face  upon 
the  stones.  Anything  for  a  respite — even  a  new  kind  of  pain, 
that  he  might  forget  the  screaming  ache  in  his  shoulders  and 
elbows  and  wrists.  But  there  was  no  respite;  his  spirit  was 
whirled  and  beaten  about  in  bottomless  abysses,  and  from  their 
depths  he  heard  the  voice  of  Perkins,  as  from  a  far-off  mountain 


268  JIMMIB  HIGGINS 

top:  "Come  through!  Come  through — or  you'll  stay  like  this 
all  night !" 

But  Jimmie  did  not  stay  like  that;  for  Perkins  got  tired 
of  standing  on  one  foot,  and  he  knew  that  the  Lieutenant  was 
pacing  about  upstairs,  wondering  why  it  took  so  long  to  ask  a 
few  questions.  Jimmie  heard  the  voice  from  the  far-off  moun- 
tain-top :  "This  won't  do ;  we'll  have  to  string  him  up  for  a  bit." 
And  he  took  from  his  pocket  a  strong  cord,  and  tied  one  end 
about  Jimmie's  two  thumbs,  and  ran  the  other  end  over  an  iron 
ring  in  the  wall  of  the  dungeon — put  there  by  some  agent  of  the 
Tsar  for  use  in  the  cause  of  democracy.  The  other  two  men 
lifted  Jimmie  till  his  feet  were  off  the  ground,  and  then  made 
fast  the  cord,  and  Jimmie  hung  with  his  full  weight  from  his 
thumbs,  still  handcuffed  behind  his  back. 

So  now  he  was  no  trouble  to  the  three  jailors — except  that 
he  was  an  ugly-looking  object,  with  his  face  purple  and  con- 
vulsed, and  his  bloody  tongue  being  chewed  up.  They  turned 
him  about,  with  his  face  against  the  stones,  and  then  they  had 
nothing  but  the  sounds  of  him,  which  had  become  feebler,  but 
were  none  the  less  disagreeable,  a  babbling  and  gabbling,  con- 
tinuous and  yet  unrhythmic,  as  if  made  by  a  whole  menagerie  of 
tormented  animals. 

Still  the  minutes  passed,  and  Perkins'  irritation  grew.  He 
wouldn't  have  minded  for  himself,  for  his  nerves  were  strong, 
he  had  handled  a  good  many  of  the  I.  W.  W.  in  the  old  days 
back  home ;  but  he  had  promised  to  get  the  information,  and  so 
his  reputation  was  at  stake.  He  would  prod  Jimmie  and  say: 
"Will  you  tell?"  And  when  Jimmie  still  refused,  finally  he 
said,  "We'll  have  to  try  the  water-cure.  Connor,  get  me  a 
couple  of  pitchers  of  water  and  a  good  sized  funnel." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  ex-burglar,  and  went  out ;  and  meantime 
Perkins  addressed  his  victim  again.  "Listen,  you  little  hell- 
pup,"  said  he.  "I'm  going  to  do  something  new,  something 
that'll  break  you  sure.  I  been  with  the  army  in  the  Philip- 
pines, and  seen  it  worked  there  many's  the  time,  and  I  never 
yet  seen  anybody  that  could  stand  it.  We're  going  to  fill  you 
up  with  water ;  and  we'll  leave  you  to  soak  for  a  couple  of  hours, 
and  then  we'll  put  in  some  more,  and  we'll  keep  that  up  day 
and  night  till  you  come  through.  Now,  you  better  think  it 
over  and  speak  quick,  before  we  get  the  water  in,  because  it 
ain't  so  easy  to  get  out." 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  DISCOVERS  HIS  SOUL       269 

Jimmie  lay  with  his  face  against  the  wall,  and  the  agony 
of  his  tortured  thumbs  was  like  knives  twisted  into  him;  he 
listened  to  these  threats,  and  heard  again  the  cry  in  his  soul 
for  respite  at  any  hazard. 

Jimmie  was  fighting  a  battle,  the  sternest  ever  fought  by 
man — the  battle  of  conscience  against  the  weakness  of  the  flesh. 
To  tell  or  not  to  tell?  The  poor  tormented  body  shrieked, 
Tell !  But  conscience,  in  a  feeble  voice,  gasped,  over  and  over  and 
over,  No !  No !  No !  It  had  to  keep  on  insisting,  because  the  bat- 
tle was  never  over,  never  won.  Each  moment  was  a  new  agony, 
and  therefore  a  fresh  temptation;  each  argument  had  to  be  re- 
peated without  end.  Why  should  he  not  tell?  Because  Kalen- 
kin  had  trusted  him,  and  Kalenkin  was  a  comrade.  But  maybe 
Kalenkin  was  gone  now,  maybe  he  had  died  of  one  of  his  cough- 
ing spells,  maybe  he  had  heard  of  Jimmie's  arrest  and  made 
his  escape.  Maybe  they  would  not  torture  Kalenkin  as  they 
had  Jimmie,  because  he  was  not  a  soldier;  they  might  just  put 
him  in  jail  and  keep  him  there,  and  others  would  do  the  work. 
Maybe 

And  so  on.  But  the  feeble  voice  whispered  in  the  soul  of 
Jimmie  Higgins:  You  are  the  revolution.  You  are  social  jus- 
tice, struggling  for  life  in  this  world.  You  are  humanity, 
setting  its  face  to  the  light,  striving  to  reach  a  new  goal,  to 
put  behind  it  an  old  horror.  You  are  Jesus  on  the  cross;  and 
if  you  fail,  the  world  goes  back,  perhaps  forever.  You  must 
hold  out!  You  must  bear  this!  And  this!  And  this!  You 
must  bear  everything — forever — as  long  as  needs  be !  You  must 
not  "come  through" ! 

VIII 

Connor  came  back  with  his  pitchers  of  water  and  his  funnel. 
They  took  Jimmie  down — oh,  the  blessed  relief  to  his  thumbs ! — 
and  laid  him  on  the  ground,  with  his  racked  and  swollen  hands 
still  handcuffed  under  him;  and  Grady  sat  on  his  feet,  and 
Connor  sat  on  his  chest,  and  Perkins  forced  the  funnel  down 
his  throat  and  poured  in  the  water. 

Jimmie  had  to  swallow,  of  course;  he  had  to  gulp  desper- 
ately, to  keep  from  being  choked;  and  pretty  soon  the  water 
filled  him  up,  and  then  began  the  most  fearful  agony  he  had 
yet  endured.  It  was  like  the  pain  of  the  ether-gas,  only  in- 


270  JIMMIE  HIOGINS 

finitely  worse.  He  was  blown  out  like  a  balloon;  his  insides 
were  about  to  burst;  his  whole  body  was  one  sore  boil — and 
Connor,  sitting  on  his  stomach,  sat  a  little  harder  now  and 
then,  to  make  sure  the  water  got  jostled  into  place.  Jimmie 
could  not  scream,  but  his  face  turned  purple  and  the  cords  stood 
out  on  his  forehead  and  neck;  he  began  to  strangle,  and  this 
was  worst  of  all ;  every  convulsion  of  his  body  stabbed  him  with 
ten  thousand  knives. 

Jimmie  had  talked  with  a  number  of  the  "wobblies"  who 
had  this  "water-cure,"  a  regular  device  of  police-authorities  in 
ismall  towns  and  villages.  It  is  simple  and  cheap  and  cleanly; 
it  leaves  no  blood  and  no  bruises  to  be  exhibited  in  court; 
it  muzzles  the  victim,  so  that  his  screams  cannot  be  heard 
through  jail-windows — therefore  a  simple  denial  covers  it  com- 
pletely. "Wild  Bill"  had  had  this  treatment,  "Strawberry" 
Curran  had  had  it  several  times.  But  oh,  thought  Jimmie,  it 
could  not  be  like  this — no  human  being  had  ever  endured  any- 
thing like  this !  Poor  Jimmie  was  not  learned  in  history,  and 
did  not  realise  that  men  have  endured  everything  that  other 
men  can  inflict.  They  will  continue  to  endure  it,  so  long  as 
privilege  is  written  in  the  law,  and  allowed  to  use  the  law  in  its 
unholy  cause. 

So  the  battle  of  the  ages  went  on  in  the  soul  of  Jimmie 
Higgins.  He  was  a  little  runt  of  a  Socialist  machinist,  with 
bad  teeth  and  gnarled  hands,  and  he  could  do  nothing  sublime 
or  inspiring,  nothing  even  dignified;  in  fact,  it  would  be  hard 
for  any  one  to  do  anything  dignified,  when  he  lies  on  the  floor 
with  a  gallon  or  two  of  water  in  him,  and  one  man  sitting  on 
his  legs  and  another  on  his  stomach,  and  another  jamming  a 
funnel  into  his  mouth.  All  Jimmie  could  do  was  to  fight  the 
fearful  fight  in  the  deeps  of  him,  and  not  lose  it.  "Lift  your 
knee  if  you  are  ready  to  tell,"  Perkins  would  say;  and  Grady 
would  raise  up,  so  that  Jimmie  could  lift  his  knee  if  he  wanted 
to;  but  Jimmie's  knee  did  not  lift. 

Far  down  in  the  deeps  of  Jimmie  Higgins'  tormented  soul, 
something  strange  was  happening.  Lying  there  bound  and  help- 
less, despairing,  writhing  with  agony,  half  insane  with  the  ter- 
ror of  it,  Jimmie  called  for  help — and  help  came  to  him;  that 
help  which  penetrates  all  dungeon  walls,  and  cheats  all  jailors 
and  torturers;  that  Power  which  breaks  all  bars  of  steel  and 
bars  of  fear — 


JIMMIB  HIGGINS  DISCOVEES  HIS  SOUL      271 

"Thou  has  great  allies; 
Thy  friends  are  exultations,  agonies, 
And  love,  and  man's  unconquerable  mind!" 

In  the  soul  of  Jimmie  Higgins  was  heard  that  Voice  which 
speaks  above  the  menaces  and  commands  of  tyranny;  which 
says:  I  am  Man,  and  I  prevail.  I  conquer  the  flesh,  I  trample 
upon  the  body  and  rise  above  it.  I  defy  its  imprisonments,  its 
prudences  and  fears.  I  am  Truth,  and  will  be  heard  in  the 
world.  I  am  Justice,  and  will  be  done  in  the  world.  I  am 
Freedom,  and  I  break  all  laws,  I  defy  all  repressions,  I  exult,  I 
proclaim  deliverance ! — And  because,  in  every  age  and  in  every 
clime,  this  holy  Power  had  dwelt  in  the  soul  of  man,  because 
this  mystic  Voice  has  spoken  there,  humanity  has  moved  out 
of  darkness  and  savagery,  into  at  least  the  dream  of  a  decent 
and  happy  world. 

So  Jimmie  lay,  converting  his  pain  into  ecstasy,  a  dizzy  and 
perilous  rapture,  close  to  the  border-line  of  madness;  and  Ser- 
geant Perkins  arose  and  looked  down  on  him  and  shook  his 
head.  "By  God!"  said  he.  "What's  in  that  little  hell-pup?" 
He  gave  Jimmie  a  kick  in  the  ribs;  and  Jimmie's  soul  took  a 
leap,  and  went  whirling  through  eternities  of  anguish. 

"By  Jesus,  I'll  make  you  talk !"  cried  Perkins,  and  he  began 
to  kick  with  his  heavy  boots — until  Connor  stopped  him,  know- 
ing that  this  was  not  ethical — it  would  leave  marks. 

So  finally  the  sergeant  said  abruptly,  "Wait  here."  And  he 
went  upstairs  to  where  Gannet  was  pacing  about. 

"Lieutenant,"  he  said,  "that  fellow's  a  stubborn  case." 

"What  does  he  say?" 

"I  can't  get  a  word  out  of  him.  He's  a  Socialist  and  a 
crank,  you  know,  and  you'd  be  surprised  how  ugly  some  of  them 
fellows  can  be.  As  soon  as  I  get  the  story  complete  I'll  report  to 
you,  but  meantime  there's  no  use  your  waiting  here." 

So  the  officer  went  away,  and  Perkins  went  back  to  the 
dungeon  and  gave  orders  that  every  two  hours  some  one  should 
come  and  fill  Jimmie  up  with  water,  and  give  him  another 
chance  to  say  "Yes."  And  Jimmie  lay  and  moaned  and  wept, 
all  by  himself,  quivering  now  and  then  with  the  perilous  ecstasy, 
which  does  not  last,  but  has  to  be  renewed  by  continuous  efforts 
of  the  will,  as  a  tired  horse  has  to  be  driven  with  spur  and 
whip.  Never,  never  could  this  battle  be  truly  won!  Never 
could  the  body  be  wholly  forgotten,  its  clamorous  demands 


272  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

wholly  stilled !  God  comes,  but  doubt  follows  closely.  What  is 
the  use  of  this  fearful  sacrifice  ?  What  good  will  it  accomplish, 
who  will  know  about  it,  who  will  care?  Thus  Satan  in  the 
eoul,  and  thus  the  eternal  duel  between  the  new  thing  that  man 
dreams,  and  the  old  thing  that  he  has  made  into  law. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

JIMMIE  HIGGINS  VOTES  FOB  DEMOCRACY 


A  NO  THEE  day  had  come — though  Jimmie  did  not  know  it  in 
•*""•  his  dungeon.  All  he  knew  was  that  Sergeant  Perkins  re- 
turned, and  stood  looking  at  him,  picking  his  teeth  with  a 
quill.  This  little  Bolshevik  had  stood  the  water-cure  longer 
than  any  man  whom  Perkins  had  ever  known,  and  he  won- 
dered vaguely  what  sort  of  damned  fool  he  was,  what  he  thought 
he  was  accomplishing,  anyhow. 

But  it  was  necessary  to  keep  after  him,  for  Perkins  knew 
that  his  career  was  at  stake.  He  was  supposed  to  have  found 
out  something,  and  he  hadn't!  So  he  ordered  Jimmie  tied  up 
by  the  thumbs,  the  poor  thumbs  that  were  swollen  to  three  times 
their  normal  size,  and  nearly  black  in  colour.  But  now  Jimmie's 
good  Mother  Nature  interfered  to  stop  the  proceedings ;  the  pain 
was  so  exquisite  that  Jimmie  fainted,  and  when  the  sergeant 
saw  that  he  was  being  cheated,  he  cut  his  victim  down  and  left 
him  lying  on  the  damp  stones. 

So  for  three  days  Jimmie's  life  consisted  of  alternating 
swoons  and  agony — the  regular  routine  of  the  "third  degree" 
in  the  more  obstinate  cases;  and  always,  in  his  conscious  mo- 
ments, Jimmie  called  upon  the  God  in  himself,  and  the  God 
responded  with  his  hosts,  and  trumpets  of  triumph  echoed  in 
Jimmie's  soul,  and  he  did  not  "come  through." 

So  on  the  fourth  day  the  three  torturers  entered  the  cell, 
and  lifted  him  to  his  feet,  and  carried  him  up  the  stone  stairs, 
and  wrapped  him  in  a  blanket  and  put  him  in  an  automobile. 

"Listen  now,"  said  Perkins,  who  sat  by  his  side,  "they're 
going  to  try  you  by  court-martial.  Hear  me?" 

Jimmie  made  no  response. 

"And  I'll  explain  this  for  your  health — if  you  tell  any  lies 

273 


274  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

about  what  we  done  to  you,  I'll  take  you  back  to  that  dungeon 
and  tear  you  limb  from  limb.  You  get  me  ?" 

Still  Jimmie  did  not  answer — the  sullen  little  devil,  thought 
Perkins.  But  in  Jimmie's  soul  there  was  a  faint  flicker  of  hope. 
Might  he  not  make  appeal  to  the  higher  authorities,  and  be 
saved  from  further  torture?  Jimmie  had  believed  in  his  coun- 
try, and  in  his  country's  purpose  to  defend  democracy;  he  had 
read  the  wonderful  speeches  of  President  Wilson,  and  could  not 
bring  himself  to  think  that  the  President  would  permit  any  man 
to  be  tortured  in  prison.  But  alas,  it  was  a  long  way  from 
the  White  House  to  Archangel — and  still  longer  if  you  measured 
it  through  the  ramifications  of  the  army  machine,  a  route  more 
thoroughly  crisscrossed  with  red  tape  than  any  sector  of  the 
Hindenburg  line  with  barbed  wire. 

Jimmie  was  taken  into  a  room  where  seven  officers  sat  at  a 
big  table,  looking  very  stern  and  solemn.  Perkins  supported 
him  under  the  arm-pits,  thus  making  it  look  as  if  he  were  walk- 
ing. He  was  placed  in  a  chair,  and  took  a  glance  about — but 
without  seeing  much  hope  in  the  faces  which  confronted  him. 

The  president  of  the  court-martial  was  Major  Gaddis,  who 
had  been  a  professor  of  economics  in  a  great  university  before 
the  war:  that  is  to  say,  he  had  been  selected  by  a  syndicate  of 
bankers  as  a  man  who  believed  in  a  ruling  class,  and  could 
never  by  any  possibility  be  brought  to  believe  in  anything  else. 
He  was  a  man  of  strict  honour,  a  very  gracious  and  cultivated 
gentleman  if  you  happened  to  belong  in  his  social  circle;  but 
he  was  convinced  that  the  duty  of  the  lower  classes  was  to 
obey,  and  that  the  existence  of  civilised  society  depended  upon 
their  being  made  to  obey. 

Next  to  him  sat  Colonel  Nye,  as  different  a  type  as  could 
be  imagined.  Nye  had  been  a  soldier  of  fortune  in  Mexico  and 
Central  America,  and  had  found  prosperity  as  a  captain  of 
one  of  those  condottieri  bands  which  were  organised  by  the  big 
corporations  of  America  before  the  war,  for  the  purpose  of 
crushing  strikes.  He  had  commanded  a  private  army  of  five 
thousand  men,  horse,  foot  and  artillery,  known  to  the  public  as 
the  Smithers  Detective  Agency.  During  a  great  coal-strike  he 
had  been  placed  by  a  state  government  in  virtual  charge  of  the 
militia,  and  had  occupied  himself  in  turning  loose  machine-guns 
on  tent-colonies  filled  with  women  and  children.  He  had  been 
tried  by  a  militia  court-martial  for  murder  and  acquitted — thus 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  VOTES  FOB  DEMOCBACY    275 

making  it  impossible  for  any  civilian  grand-jury  ever  to  indict 
him  and  have  him  hanged.  And  now  he  had  been  automatically 
taken  from  the  state  militia  into  the  national  army,  where  he 
made  a  most  efficient  officer,  with  a  reputation  as  a  strict  disci- 
plinarian. 

First  Lieutenant  Olsen  had  been  a  drygoods  clerk,  who  had 
gone  into  an  officer's  training  camp.  As  he  hoped  to  rise  in 
the  world,  he  looked  to  his  superiors  always  before  he  expressed 
an  opinion.  The  same  was  true  of  Captain  Gushing,  who  was 
a  good-natured  young  bank-cashier  with  a  pretty  wife  who  spent 
his  salary  a  couple  of  months  before  he  got  it.  The  fifth  officer, 
Lieutenant  Gannet,  did  most  of  the  talking,  because  he  was 
Jimmie's  immediate  superior,  and  had  conducted  the  investi- 
gations into  the  case.  He  had  discussed  the  matter  with  Major 
Prentice,  the  Judge-Advocate  of  the  court,  also  with  Captain 
Ardner,  the  young  military  lawyer  who  went  through  the  form 
of  defending  Jimmie;  the  three  had  agreed  that  the  case  was 
a  most  serious  one.  The  propaganda  of  Bolshevism  in  this  Arch- 
angel expedition  must  certainly  be  nipped  in  the  bud.  The 
charge  against  Jimmie  was  insubordination  and  incitement  to 
mutiny,  and  the  penalty  was  death. 

i 

II 

i 

Jimmie  sat  in  his  chair,  only  partly  aware  of  what  was 
going  on,  because  of  the  agony  in  his  swollen  thumbs  and  his 
twisted  arms.  His  flicker  of  hope  had  died,  and  he  had  lost 
interest  in  the  proceedings — all  his  energy  was  needed  to  endure 
his  pain.  He  would  not  tell  them  where  he  had  got  the  leaflets, 
and  when  they  badgered  him,  he  just  grunted  with  pain.  He 
would  not  talk  with  Captain  Ardner,  who  tried  in  vain  to  per- 
suade him  that  he  was  acting  in  his — the  prisoner's — interest. 
Only  twice  did  Jimmie  flare  up;  the  first  time  when  Major  Gad- 
dis  voiced  his  indignation  that  any  citizen  of  the  great  American 
democracy  should  ally  himself  with  these  Bolshevik  vermin,  who 
were  carrying  on  a  reign  of  terror  throughout  Bussia,  burning, 
slaying,  torturing 

"Who  talks  about  torturing?"  shrieked  Jimmie,  half  start- 
ing from  his  'chair.  "Ain't  you  been  torturin'  me — regular  tear- 
in'  me  to  pieces  ?" 

The  court  was  shocked.    "Torturing  ?"  said  Captain  Gushing. 


276  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

"Torturin'  me  for  days — a  week,  maybe,  I  dunno,  in  that 
there  dungeon !" 

Major  Gaddis  turned  to  Sergeant  Perkins,  who  stood  behind 
Jimmie's  chair,  barely  able  to  withhold  his  hands  from  the 
prisoner.  "How  about  that,  sergeant?" 

"It  is  utterly  false,  sir." 

"Look  at  these  thumbs!"  cried  Jimmie.  "They  strung  me 
up  by  them!" 

"The  prisoner  was  violent,"  said  Perkins.  "He  nearly  killed 
Private  Connor,  one  of  the  guards,  so  we  had  to  use  severe 
measures." 

"It's  a  lie !"  shrieked  Jimmie.  But  they  shut  him  up,  and 
the  dignified  military  machine  ground  on.  Anybody  could  see 
that  discipline  would  go  to  pieces  if  the  word  of  a  jailer  did  not 
prevail  over  that  of  a  prisoner,  the  word  of  a  loyal  and  tried 
subordinate  over  that  of  a  traitor  and  conspirator,  an  avowed 
sympathiser  with  the  enemy. 

Presently  the  presiding  officer  inquired  if  the  prisoner  was 
aware  that  he  had  incurred  the  death-penalty.  Getting  no  reply, 
he  went  on  to  inform  the  prisoner  that  the  court  would  be  apt 
to  inflict  this  extreme  penalty,  unless  he  would  reconsider  and 
name  his  accomplices  among  the  Bolsheviki,  so  that  the  army 
could  protect  itself  against  the  propaganda  of  these  murderers. 
So  Jimmie  flared  up  again — but  not  so  violently,  rather  with  a 
touch  of  fierce  irony.  "Murderers,  you  say?  Ain't  you  gettin' 
ready  to  murder  me  ?" 

"We  are  enforcing  the  law/'  said  the  court. 

"You  make  what  you  call  law,  an'  they  make  what  they  call 
law.  You  kill  people  that  disobey,  an'  so  do  they.  What's  the 
difference?" 

"They  are  killing  all  the  educated  and  law-abiding  people  in 
Russia,"  declared  Major  Gaddis,  severely. 

"All  the  rich  people,  you  mean,"  said  Jimmie.  "They  make 
the  rich  obey  their  laws ;  they  give  them  a  chance,  the  same  as 
everybody  else,  then  if  they  don't  obey  they  kill  them — just  as 
many  as  they  have  to  kill  to  make  them  obey.  An'  don't  you 
do  the  same  with  the  poor  people?  Ain't  I  seen  you  do  it, 
every  time  there  was  a  strike  ?  Ask  Colonel  Nye  there !  Didn't 
he  say:  'To  hell  with  habeas  corpus — we'll  give  them  post- 
mortems' ?" 

Colonel  Nye  flushed;  he  did  not  know  that  his  fame  had 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  VOTES  FOE  DEMOCRACY    277 

followed  him  all  the  way  from  Colorado  to  the  Arctic  Circle. 
The  court  made  haste  to  protect  him :  "We  are  not  conducting 
a  Socialist  debate  here.  It  is  evident  that  the  prisoner  is  im- 
penitent and  defiant,  and  that  there  is  no  reason  for  leniency." 
So  the  court  proceeded  to  find  Jimmie  Higgins  guilty  as 
charged,  and  to  sentence  him  to  twenty  years'  military  confine- 
ment— really  quite  a  mild  sentence,  considering  the  circum- 
stances. In  New  York  city  at  this  very  time  they  were  trying 
five  Russian  Jews,  all  of  them  mere  children,  one  a  girl,  for 
exactly  the  same  offence  as  Jimmie  had  committed — distributing 
&  plea  that  American  troops  should  cease  to  kill  Russian  Social- 
ists; these  children  received  twenty  years,  and  one  of  them  died 
soon  after  his  arrest — his  fellows  swore  as  a  result  of  torture 
inflicted  by  Federal  secret  service  agents. 

Ill 

So  Jimmie  was  taken  back  to  prison.  Major  Gaddis,  who 
was  really  a  just  man,  and  made  law  and  order  his  religion,  gave 
the  strictest  orders  that  the  prisoner  should  not  again  be  hung  up 
by  the  thumbs.  It  was  of  course  desirable  to  find  out  who  had 
printed  the  Bolshevik  leaflets,  but  in  the  effort  to  make  the 
prisoner  tell  he  should  receive  only  the  punishments  formally 
approved  by  the  army  authorities. 

So  Jimmie  went  back  to  the  underground  dungeon,  and 
for  eight  hours  every  day  a  chain  was  fastened  about  his  wrists, 
and  the  other  end  run  up  into  the  iron  ring,  so  that  his  feet 
barely  touched  the  floor ;  and  there  Jimmie  hung,  and  tried  out 
his  conscience — this  being  the  test  then  being  undergone  by 
many  men  at  the  disciplinary  barracks  at  Fort  Leavenworth. 
Jimmie's  conscience  really  was  nothing  like  as  strong  as  it  ought 
to  have  been.  Jimmie  had  moods  of  shameless  self-pity,  moods 
of  desperate  and  agonising  doubt.  He  did  not  mean  to  let  his 
dungeon-keepers  know  this,  but  they  listened  behind  the  door 
through  a  slot  which  the  Tsar  had  had  contrived  for  that  pur- 
pose ;  it  could  be  closed  while  the  prisoner  was  screaming  under 
torture,  and  then  opened  by  the  jailer  without  the  prisoner's 
knowledge. 

So  Perkins  heard  Jimmie  sobbing  and  wailing,  talking  to 
himself  and  to  other  people — to  some  one  called  "Strawberry," 
and  to  some  one  else  called  "Wild  Bill,"  asking  them  if  they 


278  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

had  ever  suffered  anything  like  this,  and  was  it  really  worth 
while,  would  it  help  the  revolution?  Perkins  thought  he  had 
got  some  important  information  here,  and  took  it  to  Lieutenant 
Gannet,  with  the  result  that  inquiry  was  made  through  all  the 
American  forces  for  men  known  as  "Strawberry"  and  "Wild 
Bill."  But  these  men  could  not  be  found;  as  it  happened, 
"Wild  Bill"  had  taken  refuge  in  a  place  to  which  not  even  the 
army  intelligence  service  can  penetrate,  and  "Strawberry"  Cur- 
ran  was  just  then  being  tried  with  a  bunch  of  other  "wobblies" 
in  California  and  subjected  to  much  the  same  kind  of  treatment 
as  Jimmie  was  receiving  in  Archangel. 

It  was  a  big  advantage  that  Sergeant  Perkins  had  in  his 
struggle  with  Jimmie,  that  the  pitiful  weakness  of  Jimmie's 
soul  was  exposed  to  him,  while  the  soul  of  Perkins  was  hidden 
from  Jimmie.  For  the  truth  was  that  Perkins  was  suffer- 
ing from  rage,  mingled  with  not  a  little  fear.  Wliat  the  hell 
was  this  idea  that  could  keep  a  little  runt  of  a  workingman 
stronger  than  all  in  authority?  And  how  was  this  idea  to  be 
kept  from  spreading  and  wrecking  the  comfortable,  well-ordered 
world  in  which  Perkins  expected  soon  to  receive  an  army  com- 
mission? The  very  day  after  the  court-martial,  which  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  profound  military  secret,  the  army  authorities  were 
astounded  to  discover,  posted  in  several  conspicuous  places,  a 
placard  in  English,  reading: 

"American  soldiers,  do  you  know  that  an  army  sergeant  is 
being  tortured  and  has  been  sentenced  to  twenty  years  in  a 
dungeon  for  having  tried  to  tell  you  how  the  Bolsheviki  are 
making  propaganda  against  the  German  Kaiser?  i 

"Do  you  know  the  true  reason  your  armies  are  here?  Are 
you  willing  to  die  to  compel  the  Kussian  people  to  accept  your 
ideas  of  government?  Are  you  willing  to  have  your  comrades 
tortured  to  keep  the  facts  from  you  ?" 

And  of  course  the  doughboys  who  read  this  placard  wanted 
to  know  if  it  told  the  truth.  And  quickly  word  spread  that  it- 
did.  Men  who  still  had  copies  of  the  leaflet  which  Jimmie  had 
distributed  now  found  eager  readers  for  it,  and  soon  all  the 
men  knew  its  contents,  and  were  debating  the  question  of  the 
use  of  American  armies  to  put  down  social  revolution  in  a  for- 
eign country.  These  same  questions  were  being  asked  in  the 
halls  of  Congress  back  home.  Senators  were  questioning  the 
right  of  sending  troops  into  a  country  against  which  war  had 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  VOTES  FOR  DEMOCRACY     279- 

never  been  declared,  and  other  Senators  were  demanding  that 
they  be  immediately  withdrawn.  And  this  news  also  reached 
the  men,  and  increased  the  danger.  Archangel  was  not  a  pleas- 
ant place  to  stay,  especially  with  winter  coming  on  fast;  men 
were  disposed  to  grumble — and  now  they  had  a  pretext ! 

IV 

The  authorities  who  were  handling  this  army  laboured  under 
one  grievous  handicap,  probably  never  before  faced  by  any 
army  in  history.  The  commander-in-chief  of  the  army,  who 
determined  its  policies  and  tried  to  set  its  moral  tone,  kept  com- 
ing now  and  then  before  Congress  and  making  speeches  full  of 
incendiary  and  reckless  utterances,  calculated  to  set  dangerous 
thoughts  to  buzzing  in  the  heads  of  soldiers,  to  break  down 
discipline  and  undermine  morale.  The  President  wrote  a  letter 
to  a  political  convention  in  which  he  declared  that  the  workers 
of  America  were  living  in  "economic  serfdom";  he  declared 
again  and  again  that  every  people  had  a  right  to  determine 
their  own  destinies  and  form  of  government  without  outside  in- 
terference. This  while  the  army  was  trying  to  put  down  those 
Russians  who  were  in  revolt  against  "economic  serfdom"  in 
their  own  country! 

An  army,  you  see,  is  a  machine  built  to  fight;  a  man  who- 
goes  into  it  and  takes  part  in  its  work,  very  quickly  acquires 
its  tone,  which  is  one  of  abysmal  contempt  for  all  politicians, 
particularly  of  the  talking  and  letter-writing  variety,  the  "ideal- 
ists" and  "dreamers"  and  "theorists,"  who  do  not  understand 
that  the  business  of  men  is  to  fight  battles  and  win  them.  All 
the  officers  of  the  old  army,  the  West  Pointers,  had  been  bred 
in  the  tradition  of  class-rule,  they  had  in  their  very  bones  the 
idea  that  they  were  a  special  breed,  that  obedience  to  them  was 
a  law  of  God;  while  of  the  new  officers,  the  overwhelming 
majority  came  from  the  well-to-do,  and  were  not  favourable  to 
speech-making  and  letter-writing  about  the  rights  of  man. 
They  were  without  enthusiasm  for  the  idea  of  having  a  pacifist 
secretary  of  war  set  over  them  by  the  "idealist"  commander-in- 
chief.  They  did  not  hesitate  to  vent  their  indignation ;  and  when 
this  pacifist  secretary  gave  orders  about  conscientious  objectors 
which  were  based  upon  sentimentalism  and  theory,  the  army 
machine  took  the  liberty  of  interpreting  these  orders  and  trim- 


280  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

ming  the  nonsense  out  of  them.  And  the  farther  away  you 
got  from  the  office  of  the  pacifist  secretary,  the  more  thorough 
the  trimming  inevitably  became;  thus  producing  the  phenom- 
enon which  poor  Jimmie  Higgins  found  so  bewildering — that  pol- 
icies laid  down  by  sincere  humanitarians  and  liberals  in  Wash- 
ington were  carried  out  in  Archangel  by  an  ex-detective  trained 
in  a  school  of  corruption  and  cruelty. 

Jimmie  Higgins  couldn't  understand  that  here  in  Arch- 
angel were  Americans,  taking  their  orders  from  British  and 
French  officers,  who  wasted  no  breath  on  pacifism  and  senti- 
ment, who  had  no  fool  ideals  about  wars  for  democracy.  Was 
one  obscure  little  runt  of  a  Socialist  machinist  to  be  allowed  to 
block  their  world-plans?  Setting  himself  up  as  an  authority, 
presuming  to  accept  literally  the  messages  of  his  President,  in 
defiance  of  their  authority  in  Archangel !  Allying  himself  with 
traitorous  and  criminal  scoundrels,  trying  to  poison  the  minds 
of  American  soldiers  and  light  the  flame  of  mutiny  among  them ! 
Just  as  once  Jimmie  Higgins  had  found  himself  in  a  strategic 
position  where  he  had  held  up  the  whole  Hun  army  and  won 
the  battle  of  Chateau-Thierry,  so  now  he  found  himself  in  a 
position  of  equal  strategic  importance — on  the  line  of  com- 
munication of  the  Allied  armies  attacking  Russia,  and  threaten- 
ing to  cut  the  line  and  force  the  armies  into  retreat! 


It  became  more  essential  than  ever  to  discover  these  Bolshevik 
sympathisers  and  stamp  out  their  propaganda.  As  hanging 
Jimmie  up  by  the  wrists  had  not  brought  forth  the  desired 
information,  Jimmie  was  put  in  solitary  confinement  on  a  diet 
of  bread  and  water,  this  being  another  test  of  sincerity  of  con- 
science. For  the  conscience  a  diet  of  white  flour  and  water  may 
be  all  right,  but  Jimmie  soon  found  that  it  is  very  bad  indeed 
for  the  intestinal  tract  and  the  blood-stream — being,  in  truth, 
far  worse  than  a  diet  of  water  alone.  The  man  who  lives  on 
white  flour  and  water  for  a  few  days  suffers  either  from  com- 
plete stopping  of  the  bowels,  or  else  from  dysentery;  his  blood 
becomes  clogged  with  starch  poisons,  his  nerves  degenerate,  he 
falls  a  quick  victim  to  tuberculosis,  or  pernicious  anaemia,  or 
some  other  disease  which  will  prevent  his  ever  being  a  sound  man 


JIMMIE  HIGGINS  VOTES  FOR  DEMOCRACY     281 

Also,  Jimmie  received  the  water-treatment,  as  included  in 
the  Fort  Leavenworth  regimen.  It  was  necessary  that  all 
prisoners  should  be  bathed;  which  was  interpreted  by  some 
guards  to  mean  that  they  should  have  a  stream  of  icy  water 
turned  on  them,  and  be  forced  to  stand  under  it.  Because  Jim- 
mie's  arms  were  too  badly  injured  for  him  to  scrub  himself, 
Connor  seized  a  rough  brush  and  salt,  and  rubbed  off  strips  of 
his  skin.  When  Jimmie  wriggled  away,  they  followed  him  with 
the  hose;  when  he  screamed,  they  turned  it  into  his  mouth  and 
nose;  when  he  fell  down,  they  let  the  cold  water  run  over  him 
for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes. 

Jimmie  had  had  a  good  deal  of  harsh  treatment  in  the 
course  of  his  outcast  life,  but  never  so  closely  concentrated  in 
point  of  time.  His  spirit  remained  unbroken,  but  his  body  gave 
way,  and  then  his  mind  began  to  give  also.  He  fell  victim  to 
delusions;  the  nightmares  which  haunted  his  sleep  lay  siege 
to  his  waking  hours  also,  and  he  thought  he  was  being  tortured 
at  times  when  he  was  just  hanging  by  his  chains.  Until  at 
last  Perkins,  listening  through  the  door,  heard  strange  cries 
and  grunts,  beast-like  noises,  barkings  and  growlings.  He 
called  Connor  and  Grady,  and  the  three  of  them  stood  listening. 

"By  God !"  said  Grady.    "He's  dippy." 

"He's  nutty,"  said  Connor. 

"He's  batty,"  said  Perkins. 

But  the  idea  occurred  to  all  of  them — perhaps  he  was  sham- 
ming! What  was  easier  than  for  one  of  those  emissaries  of 
Satan  to  pretend  to  have  a  devil  inside  him?  So  they  waited 
a  bit  longer;  until  Connor,  coming  to  chain  Jimmie  up,  found 
him  gnawing  off  the  ends  of  his  fingers.  That  was  really  seri- 
ous, so  they  sent  for  the  prison-surgeon,  who  had  to  make  but 
a  brief  inspection  to  convince  himself  that  Jimmie  Higgins  was 
a  raving  madman.  Jimmie  fancied  himself  some  kind  of  fur- 
bearing  animal,  and  he  was  in  a  trap,  and  was  trying  to  gnaw  off 
his  foot  so  as  to  escape.  He  snapped  his  teeth  at  every  one  who 
came  near  him;  he  had  to  be  knocked  senseless  before  a  strait- 
jacket  could  be  got  on  him. 

VI 

And  so  it  was  that  Jimmie  Higgins  at  last  made  his  escape 
from  his  tormentors.     Jimmie  doesn't  know  anything  about  the 


282  JIMMIE  HIGGINS 

Russian  Jew,  Kalenkin,  any  more;  he  could  not  tell  the  secret 
if  he  wanted  to,  so  they  have  given  up  testing  his  conscience, 
and  they  treat  him  kindly,  and  have  succeeded  in  persuading 
him  that  he  is  out  of  the  trap.  Therefore  he  is  a  good  beast — 
he  crawls  about  on  all-fours,  and  eats  his  food  out  of  a  tin 
platter  without  using  his  gnawed-off  fingers.  He  still  has  tor- 
turing pains  in  the  arm- joints,  but  he  does  not  mind  them  so 
much,  because,  being  a  beast,  he  suffers  only  the  pain  of  the 
moment,  he  does  not  know  that  he  is  going  to  suffer  to-morrow, 
nor  worry  about  it.  He  is  no  longer  one  of  those  who  "look 
before  and  after  and  pine  for  what  is  not."  He  is  a  "good 
doggie,"  and  when  you  pet  him  on  the  head  he  rubs  against  you 
and  whines  affectionately. 

Poor,  mad  Jimmie  Higgins  will  never  again  trouble  his  coun- 
try; but  Jimmie's  friends  and  partisans,  who  know  the  story  of 
his  experiences,  cannot  be  thus  lightly  dismissed  by  society.  In 
the  industrial  troubles  which  are  threatening  the  great  democ- 
racy of  the  West,  there  will  appear  men  and  women  animated 
by  a  fierce  and  blazing  bitterness;  and  the  great  democracy  of 
the  West  will  marvel  at  their  state  of  mind,  unable  to  conceive 
what  can  have  caused  it.  These  rebellious  ones  will  be  heard 
quoting  to  the  great  democracy  the  words  of  its  greatest  demo- 
crat, spoken  in  solemn  warning  during  the  slaughter  and  de- 
struction of  the  civil  war: 

"If  God  will  that  it  continue  until  all  the  wealth  piled  by 
the  bondman's  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  of  unrequited  toil 
shall  be  sunk,  and  until  every  drop  of  blood  drawn  with  the  lash 
shall  be  paid  by  another  drawn  with  the  sword,  as  it  was  said 
three  thousand  years  ago,  so  still  it  must  be  said,  The  judgments 
of  the  Lord  are  true  and  righteous  altogether." 


The  Profits  of  Religion 

An  Essay  in  Economic  Interpretation 
By  UPTON  SINCLAIR 

This  book  is  a  study  of  Supernaturalism  from  a  new 
point  of  view — as  a  Source  of  Income,  and  a  Shield  to 
Privilege.  I  have  searched  the  libraries  through,  and  no 
one  has  done  it  before.  If  you  read  it,  you  will  see  that 
it  needed  to  be  done.  It  has  meant  twenty-five  years  of 
thought  and  a  year  of  investigation. 

"You  have  put  a  lot  of  work  into  it,"  writes  William 
Marion  Reedy,  "and  you  have  marshalled  your  facts  in 
masterly  fashion.  The  book  is  bound  to  make  a  sensation." 

Rev.  John  Haynes  Holmes  writes: 

"The  book  is,  of  course,  a  powerful  and  on  the  whole 
justifiable  indictment  of  the  organized  Christianity  of  our 
day.  I  must  confess  that  it  has  fairly  made  me  writhe 
to  read  these  pages,  not  because  they  are  untrue  or  un- 
fair, but  on  the  contrary,  because  I  know  them  to  be  the 
real  facts.  I  love  the  church  as  I  love  my  home,  and 
therefore  it  is  no  pleasant  experience  to  be  made  to  face 
such  a  story  as  this  which  you  have  told.  It  had  to  be 
done,  however,  and  I  am  glad  you  have  done  it,  for  my 
interest  in  the  church,  after  all,  is  more  or  less  incidental, 
whereas  my  interest  in  religion  is  a  fundamental  thing. 

"Let  me  repeat  again  that  I  feel  you  have  done  us  all 
a  service  in  the  writing  of  this  book.  Our  churches  to- 
day, like  those  of  ancient  Palestine,  are  the  abode  of 
Pharisees  and  scribes.  It  is  as  spiritual  and  helpful  a 
thing  now  as  it  was  in  Jesus'  day  for  that  fact  to  be  re- 
vealed." 

Price  in  paper,  50c  postpaid;  in  cloth,  $1.00  postpaid. 

Published  by  the  Author,  Pasadena,  California 


